


Another World, Another Life

by KitLlwynog



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse referenced, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Post-Game(s), Reincarnation, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitLlwynog/pseuds/KitLlwynog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two thousand years ago, give or take, two destined lovers gave their lives to give Thedas a new start, banishing the Blight, weakening the Veil so that it would slowly disappear. But in the Fade, death is rarely the end and spirits can be reborn.</p><p>In the new home of the elves, Tuasal'vhenas, a spirit of Regret manifests a body in response to the bond he has formed with a young Dalish elf. Separated soon after, ostensibly for their own good, they meet again as adults. Will their story take a different path this time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spirit of Regret manifests a body to play with his friend, a little Dalish girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ir abelas- I'm sorry.  
> Iveani: Name that means Fade-touched  
> Nulam- Regret (Pain past)  
> Marel- name that means your rebel

Iveani was six years old when he came to her. She was too young to really understand what it meant, when the Fade, which had always been her friend, coalesced before her. There was a brief flash of light, a pulse of power, and then, a boy her age, an elf just like her, stood naked on the grass.

She frowned in the intense way that only a child can. "Why aren't you wearing any clothes? Mamae says its not nice to be naked outside."

"Ir abelas," he replied, a reedy little boy voice. "I forgot about that." He moved his hands over his body, magic swirling around them as he grimaced with concentration. Then he was wearing a loose smock of pale green that went down past his knees. "Magic is harder here," he said, his brow furrowing as he pushed his curly auburn hair out of his eyes. His skin was paler than hers and his eyes were such a light blue gray that the edges were nearly purple.

But Iveani hardly noticed things like that. She huffed, somewhat mollified by his acquiescence to her demands. "Where did you come from anyway?"

"Oh. I thought you would recognize me," he replied, his lips pouting slightly. "I came from the Dreaming. I always have fun playing with you when you are asleep, so I wanted to see what it was like to be alive, like you."

"I don't know anyone who looks like you. All my friends in my dreams are different. Bigger." The little girl crossed her arms skeptically.

"Well if I wanted to be alive I had to have a body," the boy replied hotly. "Nobody wants Regret around anyway. If I had come through as spirit, they would have chased me away."

Iveani's mouth formed a small 'o' of realization. Her Mamae had taught her the language of the People, made sure she could speak it as easily as Tevene. "Nulam!" she said with sudden glee, hugging the boy fiercely.

He didn't hug back, he was too overwhelmed by the gesture and the sensations it produced, but his cheeks turned bright red. They felt hot. He didn't know why, it was all very confusing.

A woman appeared from around the corner, starting to ask Iveani what she wanted for lunch and then she frowned. "Who is your new friend? He's not from the clan."

Iveani dragged him over by the hand. "This is Nulam! We play together all the time in my dreams but now he wants to be alive! He came from the Fade!"

Nehris Lavellan had never been quite so surprised.

**********

It wasn't unheard of, for spirits to cross the Veil. The barrier between the physical world and the Fade had been drastically weakened by the Great Sacrifice more than two thousand years ago, and it was slowly getting thinner all the time, as intended. 

But the manifestation of a spirit into a body was still a rare and celebrated event. Nehris took Nulam to the Seer.

The elder elf stepped back into the waiting room with a concerned expression. "Is something wrong?" Nehris asked. "Is Nulam dangerous? He seemed fairly innocuous when I checked him over with my magic."

"No, no, he isn't a threat at all," the Seer reassured her. "It's just very unusual. Spirits of regret don't manifest a body often. But more than that... I know we've talked about Iveani before. Her abilities will not manifest for years yet, but as a reborn soul, she is already likely to face challenges. And Nulam..." The Seer sighed, scratching his head. "Well, it seems he's reborn too. They have a bond, a soul bond. It is rare, and for them to discover each other so early...."

"You think it will make things even more difficult?" Nehris asked, her voice already resigned. She was a mage, but not an exceptional one, and her late husband had been just as average. She had no idea how she had managed to have such a gifted, complicated child. And now this.

"I feel that, as troubling as it may be, it would be best to separate them for now. Let them mature on their own. Nulam will need time to adjust to the physical world. And Iveani needs room to grow into her abilities. Once they are adults, they can be reunited."


	2. Fan of Her Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We come to our two lovebirds as adults. Iveani is an author, living off freelance works while writing obscure fantasy novels. Nulam spent his childhood in foster care, renamed Marel. He is now an artist, a painter just coming into notoriety.
> 
> Iveani's roommate takes to a showing at an art gallery, and she finds a painting that seems familiar. She gets asked out on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marel- name meaning my rebel  
> Evuniel- name meaning hidden moon

He rubbed his eyes. He shouldn't have stayed up so late but the book had drawn him in, as they often did. Especially by this author. Evuniel was obviously a pen-name, and was not very well-known, but Marel often felt as if she was speaking directly to him. Reading her writing always made him feel strangely emotional, playing at barely remembered things from his childhood, echoing his dreams. 

From before he'd been shoved into the system. Everything was fuzzy from back then, and records were practically non-existent. All his efforts to find out where he had come from had been in vain. These books were the only time he felt... whole. Like he belonged somewhere.

A sigh escaped him. This was not a particularly helpful train of thought. He went to bed. Sometimes he could find solace in dreams, even if he never found exactly what he was looking for.

*********  
"Oh, come on, Ivy. You haven't been out in ages," came this voice of her roommate from the bathroom. She didn't know what he could possibly be doing. Dorian woke up every day looking like a fashion model.

"That's by choice," she replied, laughing, from where she lounged on the couch in front of her computer. She was not nearly the social butterfly that Dorian was, and besides that, she was under a deadline from her publisher. "When has anything good every happened at a bar?"

"Lots of perfectly wonderful things happen at bars. I met my last boyfriend there."

"And how did that go exactly? You had a passionate love affair until he found out you were a mage and then he nearly literally blew up in your face?" Fenris had some strange lyrium body modification going on, which had glowed with anger when he had discovered that his lover was a magic user. Surprising, considering how common magical gifts were nowadays.

"Immaterial. Fenris was extremely attractive," Dorian said as he emerged, looking as fantastic as he always did. "In any case, I'm not going to a bar. I'm going to an art gallery."

She raised her eyebrows. "Branching out from the library, are you?" Dorian was a voracious reader, and his tastes were more scholarly than his party-boy persona would suggest. Still, he'd never shown interest in art before.

"You know that Qunari bouncer who works at Haven?" Iveani rolled her eyes. Everyone knew about Dorian's mild obsession with Bull. He was certainly... large.. and loud. "He told me he's picking up some extra work, doing security for an art show. Apparently the artist is famously reclusive, and therefore, the world finds him especially fascinating."

"So you're just going to happen by the gallery? Coincidentally, of course," said Iveani with a knowing grin.

"They have free wine. What's not to like?"

That was all it took to convince Iveani to tag along, though she was prepared to be bored out of her mind. Not that she didn't like art, but the popular modern stuff usually left her cold. Too abstract. Still, she was going more for Dorian's sake than for herself, and for free alcohol, she could endure even terrible avant-garde sculpture for an hour or two.

The aforementioned gallery was in a fashionable section of downtown Tuasal'vhenas, the greatest city in Thedas (according to them). Not that it was a bad place to live, especially for a Dalish elf. But Iveani often found the downtown denizens to be a bit on the pretentious side. She felt extremely drab and underdressed in her plain gray slacks and flowing green shirt, and as Dorian immediately abandoned her to go flirt, she grabbed a glass of wine and wandered aimlessly.

The paintings were actually interesting, with vivid and unusual uses of color and an almost dreamlike quality to them. Still, Iveani was about to consider going home on the train when one painting caught her eye. It was fairly banal subject material at first glance, just two elves kissing on a balcony, with the sun and mountains behind them.

But what drew her to it was familiarity. It was almost exactly a scene from one of her books, reproduced so faithfully it could have been plucked directly from her mind. She could hardly believe that some famous reclusive painter would be reading her obscure fantasy novels but then, what other explanation was there? Without thinking, she reached out, perhaps to check if the picture was real. Maybe she was hallucinating.

"It is considered rather rude to touch the paintings," came a smooth male voice from behind her. She just barely held in a startled scream, spinning around with a guilty flush.

"Sorry. You're right. I got lost in my thoughts," she mumbled, glancing up at the speaker. He was a tall male elf, fair-skinned, with his head shaved smooth. His outfit, a pale green sweater and somewhat distressed looking khakis, made her like him a bit more than she would have naturally, since he was the only person dressed more casually than her.

"What is it about this particular work that attracted you? If you do not mind my asking?" he asked, coming to stand beside her, his arms folded in a thoughtful pose.

She blushed still more deeply. "Well, it probably sounds silly, but I'm a writer. This painting just looked like something out of my books. But I heard the artist is somewhat of a hermit. I can't imagine he reads the lame fantasy novels that I write. I'm sure artists all read esoteric philosophical treatises or something."

The man snorted when he chuckled, actually snorted. It was adorably ridiculous and she laughed in response. "I was not aware artists had such a reputation," he offered mildly, before looking at her with an oddly intense expression. His eyes were pale blue-gray, nearly violet around the edges. There was something very familiar about them and she felt like she could fall right into his gaze.

He spoke again, breaking her reverie. "Perhaps," he said, his voice suddenly hesitant, "You would like to.. go out.. for coffee? I am interested to hear your other opinions regarding the habits of artists."

She gaped at him in surprise as he pressed a card into her hand. It was a simple white business card with just a name and phone number in black text. "Marel?" she murmured, but when she looked up from the card, he was gone.

*************

Of course, Dorian grilled her about every aspect of the encounter, taking her out for dinner when he got home from work the next day, plying her with margaritas and homemade guacamole. "You realize that was the artist. Marel, the man who never appears in public unless his agent drags him there. And he asked you out on a date after a five minute conversation."

"A date? I'm sure he didn't mean a date," she replied nervously, though she couldn't deny the way her heart leaped in response. It had been quite a while since she'd had any sort of romantic relationship. Not since Cullen.. that had gone rather badly.

"What other interpretation could you possibly take from that? You are going to call him, aren't you?"

"I don't know... I feel awkward about the whole thing. I mean, I basically told him I thought he'd painted a scene from something I wrote. What if he's upset about that?" Was that plagarism? Not that she minded, but maybe he thought she was making an accusation. 

"Did he seem upset?" Dorian asked reasonably. "Because from what you told me, he sounded interested. And if you don't call him, Iveani, I swear, I will do it for you." She knew he would. Her roommate considered himself to be the facilitator of her love life as well as the guardian of it. Of course, it didn't help that her mother had called her earlier in the day, inquiring transparently about her romantic prospects. And then she'd said the oddest thing, asking her if she remembered her imaginary friend from childhood, as if the two subjects were somehow connected.

************

It had been three days. Marel stared balefully at his phone. He should have asked for her number. Would that have seemed too desperate? She was Evuniel. He had wanted to meet her for years, and when he had finally gotten the chance, he had acted like a cowardly fool. She probably thought he was some sort of creep. He covered his face with his hands.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed loudly against the coffee table. He nearly dropped it in his haste to answer. Cursing, he forced himself to take a deep breath before hitting the button. "Hello," he said, his voice cracking slightly. _Fenedhis. What am I? A callow adolescent?_

"Hi.. um.... is this Marel?" came a female voice from the other end. Her voice. It was a lovely voice, low, somewhat husky, still feminine. His name sounded much better coming from her, even if that wasn't the name he'd been born with.

"It is," he said, rather breathlessly. 

"Er... I uh... met you at the art gallery... and I thought... we could maybe get that coffee?" she said, her voice wavering with nervousness. He was glad that he wasn't the only one feeling flustered by this conversation. It had been two years since he'd been on any sort of date. Varric had tried to set him up with that Chasind girl, Morrigan. He shuddered at the memory, she had been much too manipulative and overtly seductive for his tastes, though she had been lovely to look at it. 

He looked at the time. Only six. "Are you busy right now?" he heard himself say.


	3. At First Sight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iveani and Marel go out for coffee. Kissing. With tongue! Also, Dorian made the mistake of drinking Quari liquor. This chapter is longer. Thanks for leaving kudos and stuff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lethallin/lethallan: Kinsman, a familiar term that elves use to refer to other elves.  
> Ir abelas: I'm sorry  
> Tel'abelas: Not sorry, in this case it means do not be sorry.  
> Ma serannas: Thank you

They had agreed to meet in an hour. Iveani called Dorian, practically frantic. "What am I doing? What will I wear? By the Great Wolf, I must have been mad to agree."

"Pull yourself together, Ivy. It's just coffee, not a marriage proposal. Wear the good jeans. You know, the ones that make you look like you have a butt. And the brown sweater."

"Hair up or down?" she asked as she shimmied into the jeans and pulled the sweater over her head.

"Hmmm. I'd say go for the classic ponytail. That way, you show off your neck, but it's not too fancy. You don't want to look like you've obsessed over your appearance," Dorian replied thoughtfully. Iveani could hear a crowd in the background. He was undoubtedly at Haven again, getting drunk and trying to flirt with Bull.

"Okay. I'm going to go. Wish me luck," she said with a nervous sigh.

"You'll be fine," he reassured her. "Text me when you get home. I am going to need every detail, so make sure you pay attention."

"Yes, mother. Don't get too drunk, I'm not coming to get you," she said, laughing.

"Yes, mother yourself. At least you're the right gender to be my mother, even if you're not nearly attractive enough. School starts again in two weeks, you know. I'm determined to make the most of my last days of freedom."

"Bye, Dorian." She put the phone in her messenger bag and slung it over her shoulder. Iveani didn't even like carrying it, but it was better than a purse. Once last check in the mirror to make sure she didn't have cilantro in her teeth, and she headed out the door.

**************

Marel fidgeted as he sat at the table. He was early, he knew, but he couldn't stand pacing around his apartment any more. He laced his fingers in and out, and stared at the ceiling pensively. There were so many things he wanted to ask her, but he didn't want to seem like some kind of crazed stalker fan. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to still his racing heart.

A touch on his shoulder undid any bit of calm he may have gained by this exercise. He nearly jumped out of his chair. "Sorry!" came the voice he had longed to hear. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He looked up into her eyes. Bright green, like a new-opened leaf, it brought back a fuzzy memory of another pair of eyes just alike.... He shook his head to clear it. "No. I closed my eyes for a moment, and I must have dozed off." _How embarrassing._ he thought, feeling the tips of his ears redden. 

But she flashed him a brilliant smile, which he found unexpectedly dazzling. "Sounds like you need the coffee more than I do. What will you have? I'll buy this time."

This time? Was she already planning on seeing him again? He gaped at her, and she waited patiently. "I... do not usually drink coffee. But I will take a chai tea, if you do not mind?"

"Sure," she said, strolling up to the counter. Marel watched her, trying not to stare. She seemed so... confident. It made him envious, as much as it aroused him, both his curiosity and his baser desires. _Get ahold of yourself._

She glanced back at him and grinned when she saw him looking. He turned away, abashed, fiddling with his cell phone. Marel did not have a smart phone, he hated the things, but right now he would not have minded having something to occupy his thoughts, other than her. Was Evuniel her real name after all? What was she doing at the art gallery? Did she know his work? But then, she couldn't have or she would likely have known him by sight. And her writing... it spoke to him in a way he could not explain. Where did she get her ideas?

"One chai tea," she said, sliding the cup across the table to him as she sat in the unoccupied chair. 

"And what are you having?" he asked with a raised eyebrow at the mountain of whipped cream on her mug.

"A caramel mocha," she said with a grin. "I forgot to tell them I didn't need all the drink decorations. But coffee is my life blood."

"I find it gives me insomnia," he offered with a small smile. "If I did not sleep, I could not dream, and that is where I get my chief inspiration. That and a certain author, of which I am a devoted fan."

Her mouth dropped open. "You mean... You actually... You read my books? I mean.. no one reads them... I never made more than my advance," she added with a grimace. 

Marel tapped his fingers on the table, trying to think of something to say that would convey his appreciation without sounding bizarre. "I enjoyed them all immensely. They seem to... resonate with me, I suppose. I have always wondered where you drew your inspiration, and now I find myself with the opportunity to ask."

Iveani felt her cheeks redden. "My first fan. Besides my mother, that is. Now I feel bad that I'd never seen your art before the show..." she trailed off. "Usually I dream about the things I write. People tell me it's strange to have dreams with such a consistent narrative," she added with a chuckle.

"I can hardly blame you for not being aware of me. The art world is an insular one and I have only recently gained attention," Marel admitted with a shrug. "For many years, I literally was a starving artist. Likely, I would still be, except that I had a chance encounter with Josephine Montilyet and her sister Yvette. They took an interest in me, and introduced me to Varric Tethras. I would certainly not be where I am today without his help."

"Oh, you know Varric? Small world. My roommate keeps trying to introduce us, but I guess I'm a bit intimidated. I mean, he's a legend. He owns half of Kirkwall, and everyone has read his books."

"According to Varric, everyone knows Varric," Marel replied dryly. "Who is your roommate, out of curiosity?"

"His name is Dorian. Disgraced heir to the Pavus fortune," she said with a chuckle. "Apparently, Varric's cousin is married to his childhood friend or something."

Marel raised his eyebrow. "Pavus? A political dynasty in Tevinter, I believe. I am surprised you have not seen more exposure, with such connections."

"Dorian keeps offering. I don't know. Maybe it's stupid, but I really wanted to do it on my own. Get by on my own talents. Using my friends to get ahead seems like cheating." She looked up in sudden realization. "Not that I think you... I mean I'm glad that Varric helped you..."

He smiled gently, understanding. "I am not offended. Certainly I have often thought the same. But eventually, I realized the truth; this world respects coin above talent. Until I was associated with wealth, I could get no one to look twice. I do not think it was foolish to have tried to get by alone. However, I think you do yourself a disservice not allowing your friends to help you."

"You're probably right," Iveani admitted. "But enough about my problems. Do you live here?"

"Yes," he said. "I live above the bookstore a few blocks down the street. Still, you have the advantage of me. I do not even know your name. Is it Evuniel? I always assumed it was a pseudonym."

"Oh," she said with an embarrassed grin. "It is. My name is Iveani. Iveani Lavellan. Is your name really Marel, then?"

His heart skipped a beat. That name. He remembered it.. from somewhere. No, perhaps it was a common name. "Ah.. so you are Dalish, then?" he said, not entirely able to keep his mouth from twisting into a grimace.

"I am. Clan Lavellan is fairly progressive though. We barely keep any of the old traditions." It was then that she noticed his expression. "Do you not like the Dalish?" she asked, trying to remain neutral but finding herself growing defensive on behalf of her people.

He shook his head. "I.. had some bad experiences, when I was young. I am sorry, I should not take it out on you. But to answer your other question, yes, and no... Marel is not my birth name. It was given to me when I was taken into foster care. But I do not actually remember my original name. I do not even know where I came from." 

Old pain lingered in his eyes before he closed them. It pained Iveani to see and she grasped his hand in sympathy. "Ir abelas, lethallin. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. Especially not twice in the same breath." 

He looked up at her, surprised, but he did not pull his hand away. "Tel'abelas, Iveani. It was not your doing," Marel let himself enjoy the sensation of their hands clasped, the feel of her diminutive fingers, smooth against his callused palm. There was a small but noticeable surge in his mana, and she must have felt it too. She pulled her hand away gently, a look of confusion on her face.

"I'm surprised that you speak Elvhen, if you aren't Dalish. Even we haven't retained much, despite our efforts," she said, flexing her fingers as she steered the conversation somewhere she hoped would be cheerier.

"I am fluent," he said with a frown. "Yet another mystery I cannot solve. But please, let us discuss something less dour. You said your dreams have a consistent narrative? I am rather curious to hear more."

She nodded, wanting to distract Marel from the past that made him so sorrowful. "When I dream, it's like I'm viewing a story. A life belonging to someone else, except that a lot of the people are people I know. But it's all the same life. I mean, sometimes I have normal dreams. like showing up to an exam naked and stuff like that. But most of the dreams I remember, they're of this other life. Not in order though, not usually."

"Fascinating," he said with raised eyebrows. "I have been told that my dreams are unusually vivid, but they are usually less concrete."

"My mother thinks it is because I am twice-born, according the the Clan's Seer." Iveani shrugged. She wasn't sure how much she believed in that kind of stuff. It seemed like superstition. How could you tell how old a soul was? Even the Seer had admitted that no one knew what happened to the dead after they passed through the Fade.

"Hmm." Marel's brows furrowed in thought. "So she believes that these are memories of a past life?"

"Something like that. But even she can't explain why all the people I know would be involved."

"Have you ever dreamed of someone, and then met them later?" he asked curiously, remembering the intense sensation of deja vu he had felt when he looked into her eyes.

"Not really," she admitted. "Sometimes a person in a dream will be.. blurred. And then years later, I'll have the same dream, only the face will be someone I had recently met. It also seems like I tend to have a lot of dreams about people immediately after meeting them. Almost like my brain is trying to avoid giving me spoilers. I think it's ridiculous. Clearly, I just have an active imagination," she said with a skeptical shake of her head.

"I would not be so quick to dismiss it, lethallan. Have you thought of consulting a spirit on the matter?" Marel said thoughtfully. He had always been fascinated by spirits and the Fade. His whole life, his best friends had been there, a shelter for him when the real world had offered him little.

"No, I..." she paused. How could she tell him that she had been wary of spirits since she was six? Because of a little boy who she probably imagined. Because she couldn't risk losing another friend. It was childish. "I guess both of us have bad experiences we ought to put behind us," she said ruefully. "But I'm surprised that spirits couldn't help you recover your past."

"They have tried," he said with a frown. "But apparently my memories from that time are so chaotic that they cannot make sense of them. It suggests some sort of trauma. Wisdom is of the opinion that I am better off forgetting."

"You know a spirit of Wisdom?" Iveani asked, impressed. They were rare, difficult to track down, and even less likely to become friends with mortals. 

"Yes," he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Do not mistake it as some sort of extraordinary talent on my part. I stumbled upon her in the Fade, as a child." Marel paused for a moment, considering. "If you would like to meet her sometime, I would be happy to introduce you."

Somehow, just the fact that he sounded so happy, and yet hesitant about it, made Iveani really want to do it, despite her own fears. "I... I think I might like that,"

They continued speaking on a variety of subjects for several hours. Iveani talked about growing up Dalish, about her writing, and her friends. Marel talked a bit about time he had spent in Orlais and Kirkwall, and his art. They argued over which of her books was better. Then the coffee shop owner started giving them dirty looks.

"I suppose I'd better get home anyway. Dorian will be beside himself, if he's not too drunk to notice what time it is," she said, somewhat reluctantly. 

Marel stood up too, shifting from foot to foot indecisively. "Where do you live? I could walk you home. That is, if you do not mind," he amended, not wanting to seem as if he was trying to figure out her address for nefarious purposes. Mostly, he was concerned for her. Tuasal'vhenas was a fairly safe city, but a woman walking alone after dark was still a target, sadly. Plus, he was enjoying himself. Iveani was pleasant company, curious, witty, compassionate. He did not want the night to be over.

She looked at him for a moment, weighing her options perhaps, or deciding how dangerous he could possibly be, and then nodded. "I live a few blocks in the other direction. In the Skygardens Tower."

Marel nodded. He knew the place. It was a nice complex, but not ostentatious. "Let us be off, so that the poor workers can get home as well."

They left the coffee shop and as if to prove their point, someone scurried behind them to lock the door. "I guess you saw them looking daggers at us from over the counter too," Iveanis said with a chuckle as they started down the street. 

"If they had been more magically powerful, I fear they would have incinerated us," Marel agreed, his smile crooked. They walked in silence for several minutes, neither knowing what more to say, and both intensely aware of the mere inches of distance between their shoulders. _Why do I have such a strong urge to hold her hand again? To feel our fingers entwine? It is ridiculous._ Marel thought to himself, unaware that Iveani's thoughts traveled a similar path.

She was looking at him out of the corner of her eye, hands fiddling with the random assortment of objects in her jacket pocket. Marel was certainly not her usual type, with his shaved head and strong angular features, yet she couldn't help but find him unexpectedly pleasing to look at. And his voice... she could listen to it all day. 

Iveani had never been the girl who fell head over heels right away. She was the cautious one in her relationships. But he was... different, somehow. All she could think about was how soft his lips would feel against hers, how smooth his skin under her hands when she...

"Fenedhis!" she cursed as she tripped on the uneven sidewalk, nearly crashing heavily to her knees, before a hand pulled her back roughly and she collided with the warm body behind her.

"Are you all right?" his voice asked, very near her left ear, sending shivers all the way down her spine. She couldn't move, she didn't want to, her face was against his chest and she could smell clean laundry and a faint smoky, woodsy scent that must have been his skin. His heart thudded against her nearly as fast as hers was thundering in her ears, and his fingers were wrapped around her right wrist, loosening now that the danger had passed.

With an effort of will, Iveani looked up into his face even as she pulled away. His eyes were dark and his face was betraying a tangled mix of emotions, surprise being foremost among them. But there was the same confusion, the same smoldering desire that she felt. She looked away, unable to bear it. "I'm fine. Ma serannas, Marel. I guess I wasn't watching where I was going," she said, startled by how hoarse and breathless she sounded.

He stared at her for a heartbeat or two, face thoughtful, and then he nodded, as if he did not quite trust himself to speak, a feeling with which she could certainly relate. His hand dropped from her wrist slowly, and, on impulse, she grabbed it, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze before releasing them. He made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a sigh and they continued to walk, both now caught in their own thoughts. 

It seemed just a moment later that they were at the door of her building. Iveani knew this was where she should say good night but she didn't really want to. Instead, she wanted to do a rather large number of rash and inadvisable things involving the unforgivably alluring artist. She turned to him, unsure what she was going to say, but sure that something ought to be said.

"I would... very much like to see you again, Iveani," he started before she could even get a word out. "If that is all right with you."

She nodded, smiling breathlessly, trying to make her mouth formulate a sentence with his eyes fixed upon her so intently. "I had a good time," she finally managed lamely, her cheeks reddening at her own sudden loss of eloquence.

But Marel smiled. "I did, as well. I finally met the person I have most wanted to meet and she turned out to be fascinating."

"Oh, well, you should congratulate her for me," Iveani replied with a twitch of her eyebrows and a wry grin.

Marel snorted. It was just as charming as the first time. "I suppose I should get going, lest your roommate begins to worry." He started to turn away, and Iveani found she could not bring herself to let him. Feeling like she'd been temporarily possessed, she reached up to his cheek, turning his face back to her. She had to stand on tiptoe to meet his lips and they were just as soft as she thought they might be; she had to force herself to pull away, to make it just a quick brush.

His face was surprised, but not displeased. Her cheeks were burning and she took a step back, but he grabbed her hand, pulling her back against his chest. This kiss was not so gentle. It scorched her down to her toes as one of his hands cupped the back of her head and the other slipped around her waist. His tongue flicked against her lips and she opened her mouth eagerly, her right hand moving over his face and around his neck as her left slid under the hem of his shirt. 

Iveani thought she heard him moan deep in his throat as her fingers brushed the skin of his abdomen, she was crushed against him, his thigh between her knees as he leaned into her until she was only supported by his arms underneath her. She whimpered against his mouth, her body on fire as he nipped her lower lip with his teeth. Her hand glided up to his chest, and his fingers flexed against her backside. He broke away with a groan.

"We shouldn't," he said breathlessly. "Certainly not here." She nodded. The doorway was not ideal. But maybe Dorian wasn't home yet..

"Um.. would you.." she started to say, when a familiar voice shouted across the parking lot.

"Ivy! Perfect timing," came Sera's brash call. "Come get your roomie, will ya? This git's heavy."

Iveani suppressed the desire to stamp her foot. She ran a hand through her hair. "I guess I have to go now," she said with a sigh.

Marel looked equally torn, though his smile was slightly amused. "Good luck with your drunk roommate then." He paused a moment. "I don't suppose.. you would be free to come to dinner with me tomorrow?"

She grinned. "I'm a freelance writer, I'm nearly always free." Sera was cursing impatiently, and Iveani frowned. "I'll see you then. Here? Sevenish?"

"Perfect," he replied, though he would have agreed with anything she had suggested in his current state. She turned to go and he, unwilling to let her leave like that, pulled her back for a brief, bruising kiss. "Tomorrow," he said, his voice rough, and she jogged off, her ears red, nearly running into a parked car in her distraction.

************

"Who was that?" Sera asked as the two of them lugged Dorian to the elevator. "I didn't think you had a boyfriend."

"I don't.. didn't? He's a artist. We just.. had a date," she said, still a bit dazed by the whole ordeal.

"Yeah? That was a first date? Shite, he must be a smooth talker," Sera said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Mmm," Iveani replied vaguely as Dorian babbled something inane about Fereldens and mabari between them.

She got her roommate upstairs with some difficulty, patting his back while he vomited copiously and then shoving him into a hot shower. "Fenedhis lasa, Dorian. I didn't know you were planning on getting wasted," she said when he had managed to keep down some water and was safely tucked in to his bed..

"I wasn't," he said thickly. "Bull convinced to try some Qunari liquor. It was.. stronger than I was prepared for."

"What did you expect? The guy looks like he eats bears for breakfast," she said, laughing. "But I ought to slap you. You're a total cock-block, you know that?"

"What?" he said in surprise, sitting up suddenly in the bed and then moaning and lying back down. "You mean, you, on a first date, were going to invite someone in? You never invite men in!"

She shrugged, unable to quite convey the intensity of the feelings that Marel had inspired in her. "I would have been safely in the door with him if you'd been another five minutes slower. So you owe me big time, buddy."

"Oh, I don't even care. This is marvelous. Just wait until I tell Varric. And Cassandra! She'll have a kitten!" His eyes were already lighting up despite his misery.

"No way. Would you at least give me a week or so before you start the gossip machine? We're going out again tomorrow." Plus, she knew if Dorian spilled the beans to Varric, he would likely give Marel grief about it. She had never met the dwarf but she knew that he was not the type to leave a joke unsaid.

"If I must," Dorian agreed with a roll of his eyes. "I am so glad I have the day off. As soon as I am able to stand, you are going to replay every minute of your evening like bad Orlesian theatre."

"Fine, but you have to go first. I can't believe you got that drunk in front of Bull and nothing interesting happened," Iveani said, turning to go out the doorway with a knowing grin.

"Very well," he huffed. "Good night."

"Night!"

Not that she was likely to be getting any sleep. Her lips felt bruised and she could taste him on her tongue. It was going to be a lonely night.


	4. Faded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marel's POV after the date. Then Iveani has a dream that takes a much different turn than usual. After doing a bit of research on her, she and Dorian discuss her date and the significance of her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unisalan ea su na: I wanted to be with you

As soon as he was out of sight of Iveani's apartment building, Marel slumped against the wall of a secluded alleyway, trying to regain control of his rebellious thoughts and body. The cool roughness of the bricks on the back of his head was a welcome distraction, but it was barely enough to calm him. 

That had been... surprising. Not just the kiss; although he had not really expected it, one kiss at the end of a date was not exactly revolutionary. But the response of his own body... he had never felt anything like that. It was not as if Marel had been celibate. In his teenage years he had been rather proud of his amorous achievements. 

Still, that had been just for fun, a game, though he was ashamed to admit it now. And most of his recent relationships had been non-starters, never even progressing to intimacy. Perhaps it was only that it had been so long since he had been touched with any sort of passion. It was a comforting thought.

Which he did not really believe. He walked back to his apartment, ten agonizing blocks, actively forcing himself to not think about her. About the way her lips had felt against his, or the soft press of her body, the smell of her skin and hair. Honey, vanilla, and blackberries...

Marel nearly groaned aloud at the thought, practically running up the stairs to his apartment and shutting the door behind him, leaning against it with relief at his solitude. Though he was sometimes lonely, now he was glad he did not have a roommate here, asking questions or intruding on his thoughts as he stripped off his clothes and got in the shower.

Cool water on his skin made him feel better, grounded him in the moment. He could almost imagine that he was standing outside in a spring rain, the water running over his neck and ears. But then his mind conjured the image of Iveani, her coppery brown hair clinging damply to her neck and face, raindrops sparkling on her eyelashes. The peaceful mood he had been trying to evoke rapidly dissolved into something else the minute that she entered his thoughts.

Her arms going around his neck, their lips pressing together, the warm sweetness of her mouth contrasting with the cool fresh taste of rainwater. "Void take me," he moaned, his head falling against the cold tiles of the shower as his body burned with the thought of her, his member throbbing erect despite the cold temperature.

Marel knew he would never sleep unless he could cool the fires of his desire. He stroked himself until he had to cover his mouth with his free hand as he cried out her name in ecstasy, the syllables music on his tongue. The walls were thin here, no point in annoying the neighbors. He fell in to bed exhausted, but not really sated. Somehow he knew that this flame could only be quenched by her.

************

The dream was familiar to Iveani. A dim grotto filled with the sound of falling water, the air scented with a mineral tang. Two halla statues flaked the entrance as she walked with someone hand in hand. 

"The Veil is thin here. Can you feel it, tingling against your skin?" came the voice of the man with whom she walked, their steps perfectly synchronized. But this time, the voice was familiar, as it had never been before. Iveani turned in surprise. It was a dream, so her companion did not notice, but it hardly mattered. She knew whose face she would see now.

Where before there had been an anonymous blur, now a familiar profile met her gaze. High cheekbones arched into gracefully pointed ears. A narrow nose spattered with faint freckles. Full lips, a strong chin, eyes the color of stormclouds. He was older, perhaps middle-aged, though it was hard to tell. Only the gentle creases of laughter around his eyes betrayed his years. 

Still, it was undoubtedly Marel. The surprise almost brought her to wakefulness, the dream dissolving around her. But Iveani was glad. That, she recalled, was a sad and rather confusing scenario that she did not really want to replay. 

There was a moment of fuzzy confusion, the raw Fade, before another scene materialized. Iveani smiled when she recognized it, the sun setting over the mountains, a tower with windows thrown open to the balcony. This was a good dream that she wouldn't mind replaying. But for a moment, she stood outside of the dream, rather then participating actively, hearing a voice much like her own speaking to the man who bore Marel's face.

"Solas," she called him. Iveani couldn't remember hearing that before. She couldn't remember anyone ever having names in her dreams. And that was an unusual name.

And then suddenly, the dream changed, rippled, and she was standing on the balcony, facing him, her hips inclined suggestively in his direction. He seemed surprised to see her, which Iveani felt was not the usual reaction, though she supposed that his face had not before been so visible.  
Marel's face stared at her for a few moments, and then turned to leave. That was normal. She reached for his elbow, as she always did. "Don't go," she heard herself say.

He turned with only a moment of hesitation, though Iveani felt that normally he said something before his lips found hers. But it didn't matter suddenly, with his arms around her, his kiss devouring her. This felt more real, more vivid than it ever had before, but Iveani knew it would be over in a moment. She meant to take full advantage of it, her frustration from earlier rising to the surface.

She slid her fingers to his waist, undoing the slender belt around his hips and letting it fall. He did not move to stop her, the people in her dreams never reacted if she decided to act outside the parameters of the script each vision seemed to have. Her hands slipped under his woolen tunic, pulling up the thin shirt underneath, finding the smooth, cool skin of his abdomen, lean muscles trembling under her touch.

This dream was so real, and it had never been like this. He had never gasped at her touch, never kissed her jaw, and down to the hollow of her neck, his teeth nipping the tender skin so that she gave out a weak moan, pressing herself against him with the intensity of her need. 

Their clothes were in the way. As Iveani pushed him back into the bedroom, they flung their shirts aside, fingers fumbling at the laces and clasps of their pants and stepping out of them while their mouths met with desperate fervor. They fell into the bed together. Iveani had never had a dream that felt so physical, so complete in every sensation, and now he was above her, his mouth on her breast, slender fingers trailing over her hip and down the inside of her thigh. Her back arched toward his in silent entreaty.

The man who Marel's face growled as her fingers trailed over his scalp, the tips of his ears, and then he was kneeling between her legs, guiding himself with a hand as her legs went around his hips, pulling him inside her so that they both groaned at the sensation of completion.

He looked into her eyes as he moved within her, his eyes bright with desire and wonder. "Ane ir'ina'lan'ehn, Iveani," said his voice, low and hoarse with desire but still musical.

She gasped in dawning realization. The people in her dreams had never called her by name before. And this man was not the older Marel, a tiny scar on his forehead, his eyes creased with a lifetime of happiness and sorrow. He was young, the same as he had been earlier that night. This had been a different kind of dream entirely and it gave Iveani a strange feeling of dissociation.

"Marel?" she said, the heat of desire in her body taking second place to her growing suspicion. "Are you real?"

He frowned, confused. "What are you... Oh.. Fenedhis..." 

They were sharing a dream. It hadn't happened since she was a girl, she warded herself so strongly. But as the room dissolved around her, her shock dragging her to wakefulness, she was surprised to see that Marel looked more startled and guilty than angry. "Ir abelas," he said roughly, as through a long tunnel.

Iveani grasped the edges of the dream, willing herself to maintain the connection for another moment. "Tel'abelas, Marel. Unisalan ea su na." His eyes widened in shock as the vision finally collapsed.

************

She woke alone in her bed of course, her blanket twisted around her, her body drenched in sweat and aching with need. "By the Wolf's teeth," she moaned, face in her hands. How could this not make their date awkward? If he didn't cancel it entirely in embarrassment.

Iveani had always been able to share dreams with others, but she had learned to prevent it at a young age. No one liked to have their privacy violated like that. Surely, Marel would be no different. And the fact that he apparently wanted her just as much as she did him was only somewhat comforting, if her apparent lapse in control drove him away. 

There would be no getting back to sleep now. She picked up her phone and looked at the time. 7:15. Iveani was not normally an early riser, but it seemed she would be today. She got up and made a pot of coffee. Dorian was not yet awake, which was a blessing. If he saw the state that she was in now, he'd tease her mercilessly.

Two cups of coffee and a shower later, she was feeling somewhat normal. She grabbed her laptop, initially intending to check her email and maybe work on her latest short story. But suddenly she found herself typing in the search bar. S-O-L-A-S. 

Most of the results were dictionary entries at first. Solas meant 'pride' in elvhen. But she knew that, and she had been sure it was a name. Finally, three pages in, she found it. 

"Heretical texts from the Chantry records," she read... some kind of conspiracy theory thing? The Chantry was so far removed from Iveani's daily life that she was hard pressed to imagine that it was relevant. But she clicked the link anyway and found that it actually led to a bunch of historical data compiled by a scholar, F. Genitivi. 

"Though many records of this time period have been destroyed, (some believe purposely by Divine Victoria I and Archon Pavus, both personal friends of the Inquisitor), my research indicates that Solas was the given name of Fen'harel. He posed an apostate mage and aided the Inquisition in the defeat of Corypheus in 9.41 Dragon. Scattered journal entries of both parties and their companions, as well as several obscure murals purported to be painted by Fen'harel himself, seem to indicate that Solas and Inquisitor Lavellan were lovers."

Iveani sat back with a frown. That was certainly something she had never heard before. Behind her, she heard Dorian's bedroom door open. "Ugh. I must be more hung over than I thought, if you're up already," Dorian said hoarsely. "What time is it?"

"Only ten-thirty," Iveani answered. "I had trouble sleeping." As much as she trusted Dorian with her secrets, she couldn't quite bear to say that she woke up from an erotic dream that she had shared with a man she barely knew.

"And you already made coffee. Bless you," he said cheerily, though his eyes were somewhat concerned. Insomnia wasn't a common problem for her. "Now, do tell me about your date. Apparently it went rather well."

"Oh, no you don't! You promised to go first. Sit down, start talking. I'll make breakfast," she replied, waggling her finger at him.

"Fine, fine. I suppose it's a fair bargain, after all," Dorian agreed, slouching at the small kitchen table with his feet up on the windowsill. "So, after you called me..."

************

An hour later, they were picking at the remnants of scrambled eggs and blueberry muffins. "We got to the door, and Marel said that he wanted to see me again. He was looking at me with those eyes and I couldn't think. I said something lame..."

"That sounds like you," Dorian said with a chuckle, spearing a piece of fruit with his fork. 

"Anyway, he just smiled, and said he should leave. He turned to go, and I don't know.... I pulled him back and kissed him."

Dorian nearly spit out a mouthful of coffee. "You're kidding me! You, Iveani Lavellan, made the first move? And what did he do?"

"Well, it was just a quick kiss," she said, her ears hot. "He looked surprised, then he kind of smiled and shook his head.. and then he pulled me against him...." 

"So he kissed you back." Her roommate's smile would have been insufferably smug if she hadn't been so busy trying to keep her thoughts together at the memory.

"I feel like calling it just a kiss kind of diminishes both it and every other kiss I've ever had," she said wryly, before emitting a sighing groan and leaning her chin in her hands. "I've never been kissed like that. Never kissed anyone like that. It was so.. intense and primal." Iveani shivered at the memory. "He pulled back when things started to get a little out of hand for the doorway. I literally started to ask him if he wanted to come up when Sera shouted at me to help."

"That is much more exciting than my night of drunken flirting," Dorian said with a raised eyebrow. "And what did Marel do after this unkind interruption?"

"Wished me luck with your drunk ass," she said with a chuckle. "Then he asked if I wanted to come to dinner. I said I would and then he kissed me again and left. I walked into a parked car."

Dorian snorted with laughter. "Oh, by the elder dragons, Ivy. You're hopeless. So, now you have a dinner date."

"Yeah but..." she sighed and looked up with wide eyes. "We shared a dream last night, Dorian. I haven't lost control like that for years."

"Well... Damn. Can I ask what happened in this dream?" he inquired carefully, aware of the raw vulnerability on Iveani's face, but unwilling to let go of the matter. 

Her cheeks were bright red. "What do you think? It started out as one of my normal dreams, the one on the balcony, but now the man had Marel's face." Dorian nodded thoughtfully. He knew Iveani's recurring dreams often adapted to her life. "Then the dream started to change. You know, normally he pulls away, confesses his love and that's it. This time we.. you know.. got into bed.." she said, looking down in slight embarrassment. "I don't think either of us realized until he said my name. Like my actual name."

"Oh. Obviously you were surprised, since usually you're someone else in the dream."

"Yeah.. and I had a horrible suspicion. I asked him if he was real and he seemed confused for a minute. Then he cursed and apologized. The dream ended after that."

"Ah. Somewhat awkward, but surely not the worst that could have happened," Dorian remarked with a thoughtful quirk of eyebrow.

"Seriously? How could it be worse? I've invaded his private thoughts. He probably thinks I'm some sort of pervy weirdo!" Iveani said desperately.

"Goodness, Ivy, calm down. Don't you see? He cursed and apologized to you. He didn't panic, didn't question his own sanity. Nor did he accuse you of anything. This has obviously happened to him before. That can only mean that he is a Dreamer as well," Dorian said reasonably. Iveani frowned, suddenly seeing the situation in a new light. "You two were apparently thinking about each other hard enough to overcome your usual safeguards. It is a bit unusual, but I have a few friends I can ask about connections between Dreamers."

She felt a little less panicked now, but she'd been reminded of her earlier internet discovery. "Actually, I've got something else you can research for me, since you're the history nerd."

"Nerd? I take offense to that," Dorian retorted. "I am a learned man who is also extremely handsome."

Iveani grinned. "Sure, sure. In any case, I want information about the Inquisition, the one from the Dragon Age. Not the normal stuff the Chantry shoves down our throats. I read some ancestor of yours was a personal friend of the Inquisitor and may have had records destroyed."

"Ah, the illustrious Archon Pavus, yes. I'm named after him, you know. A lot of the records have gone missing, it's true, but I might be able to get some of the servants to check the family library. What exactly are you looking for?" Dorian asked, reaching for a piece of paper.

Iveani thought about it for a moment, wondering what to tell him. Would he think she was crazy? Then she sighed. Dorian already knew all her secrets. "I especially want to know about one of the Inquisitor's companions, a mage named Solas. I found a theory saying that he and Inquisitor Lavellan had a relationship. An intimate one."

"How scandalous," Dorian said with a smirk. "Thinking of branching into historical romance? I hear its popular in Orlais. Cassandra would be thrilled."

Iveani laughed. "Maybe. But that's not the half of it. This same scholar believed that Solas was actually Fen'harel, you know the ancient god of rebellion, or trickery, depending on your source."

"Oh! That is fascinating. Also explains why they might want to cover it up. I'll make some inquiries, but I don't know how long it will take."

"No hurry," she assured him. There were plenty of complications in her life already without adding some sort of weird ancient deity dreams. Her thoughts turned back to Marel. Was he truly also a Dreamer? If Dorian was right, he would likely be sympathetic to her problems. He might even blame himself for the previous night. 

As embarrassing as it might be, Iveani did not want to give up on him. No one had ever made her feel that way. Maybe she should text him or...

There was a knock on the door, it sounded strangely hesitant. "Did you order food?" she asked Dorian, who shook his head, shrugging.

Iveani strode to the door and pulled it open, and gasped. "Marel... I uh.. didn't expect you so early." He was holding flowers and a drink carrier from a coffee shop, looking distinctly unsure of himself. 

Behind her, Dorian tiptoed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. Marel looked her over, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "I know. I... After what happened.... I felt I should..." he sighed. "I am sorry. I am not very good at this, am I?"

Iveani smiled at his awkwardness, glad she wasn't the only one. She pulled the door open wider and stood aside. "Why don't you come in?"


	5. Growing Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick update, but I was feeling inspired. Anyway, this is mostly talking and fluff. Smut next chapter heh.

Marel's eyes took in the sight of the apartment, small but modern, maple hardwood floors and brick walls. Sunlight streamed through the windows in the kitchen, lending a cheerful light to a comfortable amount of clutter. It seemed a fitting environment for Iveani, who was smiling at him, gentle and hesitant, not at all the reaction he had expected.

"I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked," he muttered lamely as he handed her a bouquet of orange and yellow lilies.

Iveani took them with a smile, her eyes peering at him just over the edge of the flowers for a moment before she turned away. "Actually, I love stargazer lilies like these. They would be my first choice as far as the kind of stuff you can get from a florist," she said as she quickly clipped the stems under the faucet and placed the blooms in a vase.

"You prefer wildflowers?" he surmised, imagining her walking a wooded trail with a chain of blossoms in her hair. The forest suited her more than the city, he thought, but there was so little wilderness left in the world. Even the Dalish who had kept to their clans lived in little villages now, hidden in the hearts of the forests that remained, but no longer the nomadic hunters that they once were.

"Some," she agreed, turning to him. "I like unusual blooms. Purple columbines, green and yellow roses, foxgloves, Dalish paintbrushes, that kind of thing. Old country garden flowers too. Lupines, nasturtiums, hollyhocks. I've always wanted to have big garden," she said with a sigh.

He watched her face in utter fascination, the far away look in her eyes, and Marel found himself suddenly wanting to promise to give her a garden if he had to plant it with his own hands. To give her anything... everything. He blinked in surprise at his own thoughts, clearing his throat quietly. "And what is your favorite flower?"

She looked at him coyly. "Planning for future errors are you?" she asked with a chuckle, making him blush at the implication. "It's hard to say. A toss up between moonflowers and spotted touch-me-nots, probably."

"Spotted touch-me-not?" he asked with a frown. "I have never heard of it."

"Not surprising. I hadn't either, until college. It's the sort of wildflower you never notice until it's pointed out to you. But I actually majored in botany," she said with a shake of her head, bitterly amused by how utterly non-useful that had been. "Anyway, it's this tiny yellow-orange flower, one of the ones shaped like a curled sort of trumpet. It grows in damp places."

He could almost imagine it in his mind, a vibrant but delicate bloom growing in riotous clusters of color. "Do they call it a touch-me-not because it is poisonous?"

"No, that's the best part. The blooms are actually a great antidote to rashvine nettle if you chew them up. But the seed pods explode if you touch them. I mean, not like with a fireball or anything, they just shoot out forcefully and it's surprising if you aren't expecting it."

Marel laughed. "Why does it seem to me as if that is the perfect flower for you, Iveani? An unassuming but vibrant wildflower, but just when you are not expecting it..."

"Kaboom?" she said with a wry smile, suddenly less than a foot away. Their eyes met for a moment before they both looked away with flushed cheeks.

"Indeed," he replied, his voice somewhat hoarse. "I wanted to apologize for the dream. It has been a long time since I have dragged anyone in that way, and I was concerned that you might feel.... pressured or invaded."

Iveani looked up at him again, shaking her head. "I don't blame you, Marel," she said with a small smile. "I'm a Dreamer as well. I suspect it was mutual, or else I doubt you would have gotten through my normal wards."

He let out a long relieved breath. "That make more sense. Although, I am still sorry," he added, his ears hot. "It is not my habit to be quite so... demanding. I would have liked to take things slowly... To court you with the respect you deserve."

Iveani chuckled. "How very traditional of you. But, as you might have noticed, I didn't mind at all. As long as you didn't," she added, taking a bold step toward him so that they were nearly touching.

"I... no. It was... No one has ever..." he stammered. She was so close and he couldn't help himself, he reached for her and she placed her hands in his. Marel sighed at the contact, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her knuckles. It steadied him somewhat. "I enjoyed it very much, Iveani, but I did not want you to think that I only care for the desires of the flesh."

"Don't be silly. I already know better, and I've only known you for a few days," she replied warmly. 

"Such a high opinion of me. I cannot imagine how I have earned it," he said with a chuckle, releasing her hands from his somewhat reluctantly, but glad that the tension and nervousness had abated. "Now I suppose it is a bit early for dinner, so what shall we do instead?"

"Let's go for a walk. Have you ever been to Riversedge Park?"

"I have never heard of it, though I cannot say I have made much effort to explore the city," he said as Iveani picked up her phone and texted Dorian about where she was headed. 

"Well, now we have to go. Come on, it isn't far," she said, grabbing his hand and yanking him through the door.

************  
Marel was pleasantly surprised by the park, which was one of those places you wouldn't see unless you knew it was there. It was on the edge of the less flashy part of downtown. Not a slum, one thing the city had managed to get right was unprecedented economic equality. Things weren't perfect in Tuasal'vhenas, but it was better than anywhere else. This part of the city was sort of gray and industrial but not dangerous. 

The trained zoomed by at the other end of the bridge as Iveani led Marel down a somewhat rusty metal stair. At the bottom, the Arlathan River flowed past an old dam, shallow and rocky. There was a small flat lawn, a few trees, but Iveani led him on, past the dam, under another bridge. Colorful grafitti marked all the least accessible parts, nothing particularly artistic, probably just kids goofing around. 

Iveani saw him looking. "Part of me always wanted to go up there and add something, but I'm too much of a chicken."

"Were you afraid to fall?" he asked with a smile, remembering his own rebellious youth. He had thought himself invincible, done all sorts of ridiculously dangerous things, some of which involved illegal artwork.

"No," she said. "Worse. I have such bad luck I just assumed that the second I uncapped the spray paint the entire Watch would show up, sirens blaring."

He snorted in amusement. "I would never have guessed that you were the type to be afraid of authority, Iveani."

She blushed. "Not so much now. But I was more shy as a kid." A memory of fear and pain, a raised hand... She shivered and shook her head, banishing it. "Anyway, the best part of the park is farther on."

They walked together, hand in hand, down wooden walkways in the trees and under another bridge. After passing a grassy lawn with a few park benches where a couple of families were playing, the paved path abruptly ended and they were walking along a flat sandy bank. A huge dead tree had fallen into river. Marel thought it must have been sitting there for decades. It had been sanded smooth by exposure to the weather, and so many people had sat on the trunk that a seat had been naturally worn in the wood.

Iveani sat on the trunk and patted next to her. Marel settled down beside her, the natural curve of the tree pressing them together. Though he was highly aware of her closeness, he let himself look around the area. It was quiet, the only sounds were the murmur of the river beyond and the sound of wind in the dead leaves. You couldn't even hear the city anymore, the river had curved into a small patch of scrubby woodland, and the backyards of modest houses could barely be seen in the distance.

"It's peaceful here. The closest to nature you can get in the city," she said softly.

"Do you miss it.. your clan?" he asked, turning toward her so that he could see her face. Her eyes were far away, and there was pain in them, but it didn't seem like the homesickness he expected.

"Yeah, I guess, but at the same time, I'm glad I got away. I mean, I miss my mother, some of my friends..." She shuddered. "Leaving was worth it, even if I never get to see the stars. Sorry if it seems like I'm being cryptic but there are some things I don't feel like talking about right now." Her eyes were bright, he could sense tears being just held back.

Though he knew the touch of compassion might set them flowing, it was more the Marel could bear to just let her suffer alone. He turn his body fully toward her and put his arms around her shoulders, loosely, so that she would not feel trapped. But she fell into them anyway, pressing her face into his shirt, and he held her close. "There is no need to speak of it," he murmured. "But neither is there shame in sorrow."

He didn't know how long they sat there, he stroking her hair while the tears fell silently. But eventually, she sighed, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve before looking up at him. Her eyes were still shining but she seemed more relaxed. "I'm sorry. I promise I'm not one of those girls that bursts into tears all the time. I usually try to avoid thinking about the bad parts of my childhood."

Marel's smile was heartbreakingly gentle as he pushed an errant strand of hair off her damp cheek. "No need to apologize, Iveani. Everyone has their burdens, but that is no reason to bear them alone."

Her heart swelled with emotion as she looked into his eyes. It was a feeling she couldn't quite place, a soaring sensation, a buzzing warmth in her limbs. Was this what love felt like? _Don't be stupid, Iveani. You've know the man less than a week._ said the logical part of her brain. But she'd never been very good at listening to that voice anyway. Her lips curved into a smile. "Thank you," she said, kissing him quickly on the cheek and standing up. "Maybe we should think about getting that dinner now. I know it's kind of early, but all that walking made me hungry."

"I have not eaten much today, either." he admitted. He'd been too nervous and upset this morning. "Do you have some place in mind?"

"How do you feel about Qarian food?"

***************

Dorian had turned her on to this restaurant, a tiny place with an unpronounceable name. "The fabulous cuisine of my homeland. Best you can find outside of Qarinus itself."

Iveani had nothing to compare it to, so she had to take Dorian's opinion at face value. It was delicious, meat and fish in savory sauces, hot fresh flatbread. You only had to watch the spice levels. Apparently the people of Qarinus had iron stomachs and tongues.

It was evening by the time they left, the sun red on the horizon. Both of them were almost uncomfortably full and they walked slowly as the streetlights came on. Iveani had grasped his hand again and Marel laced his fingers with hers gladly. It seemed natural, this small gesture of affection, and it brought him a comfort he hadn't expected, as if it anchored him in the world, to the present, calming the storm that was his typical state of mind. 

Still, he did wonder what would happen when they reached her door. Would she ask him to come up again? He had to admit that he wanted her to. The taste of her in the Fade, as startling as it had been, had only stoked the flames of his desire, especially now that he knew that it was shared. But he didn't want to pressure her, and he was trying to prepare himself for disappointment. There was no hurry, after all. He should really try to take it easy. When her building came into view, he felt his stomach and his heart turn over with his anxiety.

They reached the door and Iveani turned to face him. They both started talking at once and then stilled. "You first," he finally said with a wry smile.

She took a deep breath, blowing it out her nose. There was no reason to be this nervous, he'd already pretty much seen everything in the Fade. _I'm a grown-ass woman, not a child. I want to be with him, he wants to be with me, no big deal._ she told herself, ignoring the image of her grandmother's wagging finger that seemed to spring into her mind to censure her. "Wouldyouliketospendthenightwithme?" she asked, everything rushing out with one breath. Inwardly, she cursed at her own awkwardness as she saw Marel trying not to laugh.

But he pulled her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles, and when he lowered it his eyes had grown stormy. "I would like that very much."


	6. Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a somewhat short chapter which is mostly smut. So very NSFW XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isalan hima sa i'na: I need to become one with you.  
> Garas, aman ara'mis: Come, I will sheathe my blade in you  
> Sathan: Please  
> Vera em su tarasyl: Take me to the sky  
> Ma nuvenin: Your wish (as you wish)  
> Ar lath 'ma vhenan: I love you, my heart  
> Emma lath: My love

Neither of them could keep from grinning, despite their nervousness, as they made their way to Iveani's apartment. They tiptoed down the hall, and she cautiously unlocked the door. It was quiet and dark inside and Iveani let out a sigh of relief. Dorian wasn't home yet. She grabbed Marel's hand and pulled him inside.

Of course, now that they were here, neither of them were sure where to begin, and they stood facing each other with their hands clasped for several moments before they both laughed awkwardly. "It seems I am not the only one who finds things easier in dreams," Marel said with a soft smile.

"It a little different knowing you're really here," Iveani replied, chuckling quietly. "I don't want to scare you off." She reached up and touched his cheek and he closed his eyes, sighing.

"You must think I am easily frightened, then, Iveani," he said, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "I am not afraid, although, I admit I am confused by the intensity of the emotions you awaken in me." Marel took a step forward, pulling her gently against him, giving her an avenue of escape.

But she didn't need it, not now, not with him. Iveani's arms wrapped around his neck, their brows just touching. "I can't say I understand it either. But I don't dislike it," she added, pulling herself up on her toes so she could kiss him, their lips meeting in a gentle brush once again. It sent an electric tingle all the way to her toes. 

Marel's sharp intake of breath matched her own, and his arms tightened around her, sliding up her back as his mouth captured hers. He sucked greedily at her lower lip as she ran her tongue teasingly over his mouth. Gasping, he grazed her lip with his teeth before thrusting his tongue between her lips.

Iveani's nails scraped lightly over Marel's scalp and he shuddered with pleasure. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him down a barely seen hallway and through a door that she pushed shut with her foot, one hand pulling on the chain of a lamp. The room flooded with wan amber light, but Marel barely saw it. She was all that mattered, her mouth on his, her hands snaking under his shirt, her warm curves pressed against him; he couldn't get close enough. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pressed her against the back of the door and slid his hands under her loose silky blouse. Her skin was soft and smooth under his fingers, the curve of her hips rising gently to her ribs and up to her breasts, which he cupped reverently through the thin cotton bra.

Iveani moaned as his thumbs brushed over her nipples, her hips arching against his, her fingers trembling with anticipation as she undid the buttons of his shirt and slid it over his shoulders. He was just as perfect as he had been in the dream, broad shoulders spattered with freckles, a lean torso tapering to narrow hips. His pale skin was silken smooth and cool against her palms as she splayed them over his chest and his eyes were wide and dark. He pulled her shirt over her head, and unclasped her bra with clever fingers.

For a moment, they just looked at one another, drinking in the sight of bared skin like a man dying of thirst might gaze on a oasis in the desert. "You are so beautiful, Iveani," Marel said, awed and reverent.

"Hmmm. You said that once already," she replied as she wrapped her arms around his neck again, pressing their bare chests together, making them both shiver with the electric feeling of skin against skin.

"Because it is true, both within the Fade and without," he said with a small smile before pressing his lips to the hollow of her neck. She couldn't help the whimper that escaped her mouth when his teeth grazed the sensitive skin and her nails scraped over his back as she clung to him. He gasped, his fingers flexing against her hips before sliding to her rear, groping unashamedly.

She chuckled and pushed him back toward the bed until the back of his calves collided with the frame. He didn't fall, but instead somehow managed to sit down while pulling her astride his lap. Not that she minded. His lips pressed to her throat and trailed languorously to her collarbone and sternum as she ran her fingers over his scalp and to his ears. When she traced a single finger over each graceful point, he groaned and suddenly his mouth was on her breast. His tongue circled her nipple until it was taut with desire and then he rolled it gently between his teeth.

"Marel!" She gasped his name like a prayer, her hips rolling against him as her back arched. He groaned at the pressure against the erection already straining against his pants, pulling her down on the bed next to him. They kicked their shoes off as lips met and hands wandered. Marel had never before realized how erotic bare feet could be until her callused sole brushed over the arch of of his foot. He shuddered, his teeth clamping down on her ear lobe, and then he felt her hands at his waist. She stroked him through the denim, chuckling darkly when she felt how ready he was. The simple touch was nearly enough to undo him. It had been so long.

"Iveani, isalan hima sa i'na," he moaned against her mouth, his hips rocking without his consent. They could not get out of their pants fast enough. But his mind was not completely gone. "I have... in my pocket.." he said, more breathlessly than he intended.

"Oh, yeah. I suppose we should have discussed this earlier like real grownups," Iveani replied wryly. "I uh.. have the implant.. thing, and I promise I don't have any diseases. You know.. if you'd rather... I mean, either way is okay with me," she stammered, her embarrassment over what should be a perfectly normal adult conversation making her even more embarrassed.

The gears in his mind turned slowly, addled by the fog of lust. The implant.. oh.. magical birth control.. and she wanted... Just the thought that she would trust him enough, and to feel her, really feel her, it almost broke him. "Garas, aman ara'mis," he said, falling into Elvhen as he usually did when his emotions seemed too strong for words.

Iveani smiled, brilliant as a blazing comet, and pulled him down on top of her. He braced himself on his hands, basking in the sight of her bared before him, her hair unbound in a coppery spray around her head. She was amazing.

Kneeling between her legs, he trailed his fingers over her breasts, her stomach, caressing the downy hollow of her hip as she shuddered and shivered beneath him. He slid down, his breath hot on her abdomen, his fingers trailing fire on the inside of her thighs, while she grasped at his head, his ears, any bit of him she could reach.

His lips pressed a kiss to the damp curls between her legs and she sucked in a breath of anticipation before his tongue darting between her folds nearly sent her reeling. But Marel moved slowly, almost tortuously so, circling her aching bud with clever tongue until she cried out for him. "Sathan, Marel. Vera em su tarasyl," she said, not knowing where the words come from, not caring.

"Ma nuvenin," he replied roughly, rising to guide himself with one hand while the other grasped her hip. She was slick with want and when he buried himself in her, her core almost scalding hot and hugging him tightly, he had to still himself for a moment to not spill himself right then, moaning even as she did with the feeling of completion, wholeness. When he finally trusted himself to move again, it was slow, like the rolling of the tide. Even though it was their first time together, they found a rhythm easily, as if it was steps to a dance long practiced. Marel wanted to capture this feeling, to prolong it as long as he could, but at the same time, he could feel a shattering orgasm approaching, and the nearer it came, the harder and deeper he drove into her. She gasped and moaned, clutching desperately at his shoulders, her legs twining around his waist. Then he felt it, her inner walls tightening around him as a wordless howl of ecstasy escaped her lips, and that was all he could take. 

The climax roared through his body like an avalanche as he jerked into her frantically, two, three times more, her name spilling from his lips in a fervent offering. Marel barely caught his weight on his shaking arms as languid exhaustion took him, but Iveani pulled at him, telling him to surrender, and he complied. His head fell to her chest, her heart beating a frantic staccato, while her hands gently stroked his head and back.

He had never felt such peace in his life. It wasn't just the sex, it was her, it was everything. Words spilled from his lips before he could stop them. "Ar lath 'ma vhenan," he whispered.

Iveani's eyes fluttered open in shock. He was just as surprised as she, but he didn't want to take back the reckless declaration. He only hoped she would forgive the presumption, that he had not bared his heart so early that it frightened her.

Her gaze was searching, perhaps looking for a lie, and so he met her eyes fearlessly, knowing the words were true, if badly timed. Slowly, her lips curved into a hesitant smile. "Marel. Emma lath. Will you stay?" 

"I would not leave for the world, Iveani," he answered, his voice thick with emotion. Eventually, he rolled to lie beside her and she turned to face him, her leg hooking over the back of his knee to pull him close. Everything was still new, and it was wondrous to touch each other, to be close and have no need for words, saying everything with their bodies. 

Of course, the gentle caresses led to another round of lovemaking, this one slow and tender, and finally they fell asleep, Iveani nestled in the warm curve of Marel's body, their fingers entwined.

***********

Iveani woke first, blinking against the sunlight, and knew immediately that Marel was still there, his skin slightly damp with sweat where it was pressed against hers, his breath stirring her hair. She turned carefully to look at him, not wanting to wake him and spoil the moment. His face was open in sleep, trusting and vulnerable and unspeakably beautiful. With one finger, she gently traced the line of his brow, his narrow nose, the elegant arch of his cheekbones. He did not stir, though he sighed with something like contentment, bringing a smile to her lips.

Ridiculous, the feelings she already had for him, the love that bloomed in her chest. But she can't seem to help it, and a part of her wondered if her mother wasn't right all along. The dreams of him, perhaps they were of another life, a life where they had loved before? Maybe that explained why she could hardly bear the thought of parting, even though it was far from unreasonable that he would need to go home today.

With a sigh, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before turning, planning to get dressed and make them something for breakfast. However, when she sat up to leave, a pair of long arms snaked out from under the covers and pulled her laughing back into the bed.

They showered together. Despite the small space, and the limited supply of hot water, it was worth it for the closeness, to prolong the illusion that they were the only two in the world. Iveani made pancakes for breakfast. She was just pouring the first batch into the pan when Dorian walked in the front door.

"Now where have you been all night, Mister Pavus?" Iveani scolded, brandishing her spatula threateningly.

Dorian opened his mouth to speak and then noticed Marel at the kitchen table, trying to look nonchalant from behind a mug of tea. "Never mind that. We have a visitor. For breakfast," he said with a knowing smile.

"Are you always this observant, Mister Pavus?" Marel asked sardonically as Iveani smiled, somehow looking smugly triumphant while also rolling her eyes in derision.

"I have my moments," Dorian answered with a chuckle. "You must be Marel. I admit I hardly imagined to meet you under these circumstances."

"And you must be Dorian Pavus, Iveani's heavy roommate," Marel replied with a grin. He stood and the two men shook hands. "I certainly never thought I would meet a Pavus outside of Tevinter."

They both sat down at the table then, Iveani wordlessly handing Dorian a steaming mug of coffee. "We do have a bit a reputation at home, don't we? But my father and I don't exactly see eye to eye. I decided to attend medical school here to give myself a bit of distance."

Marel raised an eyebrow. "A doctor? A neurosurgeon like your father?" he asked, thinking it a surprising choice for someone trying to break away from the family legacy.

"No, and there lies the root of the old feud. I'm interested in pathology, with magical assistance."

"Now let's not start talking about corpses at the breakfast table again," Iveani said as she slid a heaping pile of blueberry pancakes next to the butter and syrup. "You'll make Marel ill and then he'll never want to come back."

Dorian laughed. "We can't have that, now can we? You'd probably run off and join the Chantry sisters if you had to endure another six months of celibacy."

Marel snorted into his tea as Iveani slapped her roommate hard on the shoulder.


	7. Full of Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marel's surprises Iveani with an exciting meeting and they discuss the results. When iveani returns home, Dorian has a surprise for her as well. A friend in Tevinter found a secret room in the Pavus family library that contained a wealth of information about Inquisitor Lavellan. They begin sifting through the info.

Marel stared at the canvas on the wall, his chin in his hand and his brow furrowed in thought. The need to do this work had consumed him for days, but he was not the type to throw himself into his art with chaotic abandon. He liked to have an idea complete in his mind first. And this had to be perfect.

His heart nearly stopped as arms wrapped around his chest from behind. Quiet laughter tickled his ear as lips pressed to the back of his neck, and he shivered in response. "Iveani," he said breathlessly, turning to face her. "I think you have shaved several years off of my life. I nearly had a heart attack." He pressed his lips to her brow, breathing her in as his heart thumped erratically in his chest.

"I heard elven life expectancy is almost a thousand years now. You'll hardly miss them," she murmured up at him, her eyes dancing with mirth.

He couldn't help but return her smile, wrapping his arms around her waist. The past few weeks had been the happiest in his recent memory, perhaps the happiest ever. Marel wanted to give her the same joy and contentment, and he had a plan, though he wasn't sure if she would actually thank him for it right away. 

"Perhaps I have plans for all of those years," he said, chuckling, and pulling away slightly. The scent of her was distracting and today they were actually on a schedule. "I have a surprise for you today, vhenan."

"Oooooh, I like surprises," she said, grinning. _Vhenan._ It was such a simple endearment, delivered almost casually, and meaningless to a non-elf. Every time Marel said it, she felt her heart flip over in her chest. In a good way. But she could not quite bring herself to return it, not yet. It didn't seem to bother him, but she still pressed a kiss to his jaw by way of apology. 

Her hands wandered down his back, almost of their own accord, as she leaned into his body. Iveani thought it should be illegal for a man to be this attractive. She heard a soft intake of breath in his throat. It pleased her to know how much she affected him. He kissed her hungrily, breaking away with a gasp of reluctance.

"Sadly, we cannot linger," he said, his voice rough. "We have to be on time for your surprise." Marel took her by the hand and led her out of the apartment, only stopping to make sure he had his keys.

"I have to say, I'm intrigued by a surprise I can be late for," she said as they walked, the life of the city flowing around them unnoticed. Sometimes when they were together, Iveani felt like the two of them were on an island of their own making, peacefully drifting unaffected by the chaos around them.

"You will just have to find out when we get there," he replied with a smug smile. She should have known he wouldn't be that easily baited, and he was clearly enjoying keeping the secret from her, however briefly. 

They stopped in front of a nondescript pub. "Lowtown?" Iveani read the name on the sign with raised eyebrows.

"I believe the owner is attempting to make a joke about the quality of his clientele," Marel said with a small smile as he pulled the door open. It was dim inside, full of old dark wood and the quiet hum of conversation. Iveani was about to ask what kind of surprise he could possibly have in mind when a voice rang out above all the others.

"Marel! Perfectly on time, as usual." The voice belonged to a dwarf. A beardless dwarf with a red vest and hair the color of old brass. Seated next to him was a woman with dark hair, olive skin, and a serious expression. 

_It couldn't be._ was the only coherent thought to spin from Iveani's mind as Marel led her to the table.

"Good afternoon, Master Tethras. Might I introduce Iveani Lavellan?" he said, nudging her forward. She shook the dwarf's hand in a state of mute shock.

"I'm pleased to meet you. Really. I've been dying to meet the girl who managed to drag the hermit out of his cave."

Marel snorted with a a shake of his head. "As you might have guessed, this is Varric Tethras, and his editor, Cassandra Pentaghast."

"I can see Marel didn't trouble to inform you of our meeting," Cassandra said wryly. "But please do have a seat. I admit I am quite a fan of your books."

"You are?" Iveani sputtered, relieved to have the support of a chair under her legs. As soon as she recovered, she was pretty sure she was going to punch her boyfriend in the face.

"Chuckles practically forced us to read them," Varric said. "Long before you ever met, he was the president of your fan club."

Cassandra laughed into her drink. "He was quite insistent. But you write beautifully. Besides, you have no idea how tired I am of reading Varric's ridiculous puns."

"Hey, that's part of my charm," he protested cheerfully as the waitress arrived. 

"Would ya' look at that? Baldy's got a girlfriend! And Cassie and Varric! Is it like, a double date?" said the blond elf with a wide grin. Marel and Cassandra both groaned and hid their faces.

"Sera! I hope you haven't blown up the kitchen today," Varric said by way of greeting. "And no, this is business. Cassandra doesn't go in for the silent, scholarly types, and this girl is clearly much too young for me."

"Ha! Good one!" Sera said, before getting down to the business of taking their drink orders. By the time the food arrived, Iveani was much more relaxed. Varric was a good storyteller and Cassandra seemed to be the tailor made foil for his acerbic wit. The sexual tension between them was almost laughable. 

"So, like I was saying, we think there's a bigger market for your stuff and we want to help you get it out there."

"What do you mean?" Iveani asked, trying not to wring her hands in sudden nervousness. She felt a gentle touch on her knee, and her fingers wrapped around Marel's waiting hand gratefully.

"I assume there's at least one more book in the series," Cassandra said. "You left the story rather unresolved."

"Yes," Iveani admitted. "But I haven't even started writing it yet. I mean, it's not like there's been a demand. I've been concentrating on supporting myself with freelance projects."

"Understandable," Cassandra said, taking out a notepad. "Your publisher is amenable to selling us the rights to the series. If we bought it, we would want to do an edit and reprint all of the earlier books, leading up to publishing the final book. We are willing to offer you a sizable advance."

"You are?" Iveani was sure that she was seriously hallucinating. Maybe she was dreaming. Or dead.

"Those books have potential and your publisher has been wasting it. Marketing them all wrong. Plus, the cover illustrations are garbage. Trust me, Starshine, with a little help, you could be on the best-seller list."

Iveani could only gape wordlessly. Cassandra smiled. "You do not have to decide right away. I will give you my card. There is no hurry."

"No. I mean, I accept. I'd be crazy not to. I'm just... shocked. Dorian has been trying to get me to meet with you for ages," she added with a grimace.

"If Sparkler had actually told me who his talented roommate was, I would have busted down your door. Ever since Chuckles started tooting your horn, I've been dying to turn you loose on the unsuspecting world," Varric said with a mischievous grin.

Cassandra made a noise of disgust in her throat, but she was clearly pleased. "I will contact you once we have worked things out with your current publisher. It should only take a week or two."

"Do you have a literary agent?" Varric asked as he paid the bill over Marel's protests.

"No," Iveani admitted. "I've never needed one before, so it seemed silly to bother with it."

"Oh, I know just the one," Varric said. "I'll have her call you. Trust me, Starshine, you'll need one soon enough."

**********

Much later, they laid together in Marel's bed, which was larger and more comfortable than hers. They didn't always spend the night together. Though they both found it far more enjoyable than being alone, it was logistically inconvenient for getting any sort of work done. So they limited themselves to two or three nights a week, and both of them tried not to press for more. 

"I hope you were not too upset by the surprise," Marel said into the back of her neck. "I know it was presumptuous of me, but I had already promised Varric a lunch meeting. And I suppose I wanted you to see that other people appreciate your writing as much as I do."

"I thought about punching you in the face when we first got there," she said, chuckling quietly. "But by the time we were leaving, I had already decided to forgive you." 

"I am glad you changed your mind. If my nose was broken again, I fear it would heal even more crookedly and I would no longer be charming enough to keep your attention."

She turned in his arms and traced her finger lightly over the bump on the bridge of his nose. "How did it happen the first time?"

"I hardly remember," he admitted. "I was a different person when I was young. Arrogant and cocky, always ready for a fight. I cannot count the number of times I came home with a bloody nose, and many of them were deserved."

Iveani laughed. "I can hardly imagine it. So what happened between then and now?"

Marel raised an eyebrow, thoughtful. "I suppose I hit rock bottom. I was a ward of the state until my eighteenth birthday, and then I was tossed aside, as many other unfortunate youth. With no prospects, and no knowledge of where to find help, I quickly found myself dragged into the depth's of Kirkwall's underbelly. It was a dangerous life, and much of it was also illegal. As is perhaps unsurprising, I eventually ended up in jail."

"What for, if you don't mind me asking?" Marel rolled onto his back and she laid her head on his chest. He was silent for several moments as she listened to the muted thump of his heart in his chest. "You don't have to tell me."

His fingers slowly ran through her hair, as soothing for her as it was for him. "No, it is all right. I do not wish to have secrets from you, though it is something I am ashamed of. I was arrested running lyrium for the cartel, but the guard was unable to prove any of that, so I was charged with possession as well as whatever other misdemeanors they could dream up. None of which were untrue," he added with a chuckle. 

"So, there I was, barely out of school, in jail. I admit I was terrified, though I certainly pretended nonchalance. Of course, the public defender they assigned me saw right through my charade. After managing to talk the judge down to probation, she took me under her wing. I resisted at first, not knowing how to react to a person actually caring about my well-being. But she persisted, and eventually, I could hardly bear to disappoint her. I got into art school on a special scholarship at her urging, and Wynne encouraged me all the way through to graduation."

"She sounds wonderful," Iveani said, sighing. "I'm glad you had someone to take care of you, after so long being alone."

"Wynne undoubtedly saved my life. Or at least, she put me on the trajectory that led me to you, which amounts to the same thing."

Iveanit rolled her eyes, though she was more pleased than she would have liked to admit. "Flatterer." Marel chuckled, his fingers now tracing intricate patterns on her back.

"I am glad that you were not terribly bothered by my interference. I admit it was partly out of my own selfish desire to know the end of the story," he said, turning back to their earlier conversation.

"I promise I'm not angry," she assured him with a smile. "I'm only a little worried because I'm not sure how to finish it."

"You do not already have a plan? I suppose you are one of those writers who just sits at the computer and the words simply fly out of their fingers and onto the page,' he said teasingly.

"A bit," she admitted. "But I told you before how my books are based off of the recurring dreams I have?"

"Yes. I take it you have not dreamed the rest of the story?"

Iveani shook her head. "I have, at least most of it. But as far as I can tell, it doesn't have a happy ending. I feel like people won't want to read that sort of thing." She wondered if she should tell him that he was in them now. But then, she would feel like she would also have to tell him her terrible suspicion involving Fen'harel. Not only was it totally bizarre, but it seemed unnecessarily cruel. She would wait until she had more information.

Marel yawned, cupping the back of her head and placing a soft kiss on her brow. "It is your story, Iveani. Just give them the ending you want them to have," he said. She smiled and kissed his chest. Maybe things were that simple.

****************

When she arrived back home the following day, which was conveniently a Saturday, she found Dorian slumped over a textbook at the table. It was kind of adorable. She shook him by the shoulder. "By the gods... what time is it?" he said, blinking and groaning.

"Around noon. Are you all right? You don't usually study that hard on a Friday night," Iveani asked as he stretched and peered around the kitchen fuzzily. She turned on the coffee maker.

"I'm trying to read ahead so I can go out with Bull later in the week. I'd hate to disappoint him, but I can't get behind either. This lyrium chemistry class is a nightmare."

"So things are going well with him, I take it?" She slid Dorian the first cup of coffee, which he took with a grateful smile."

"You are my favorite person," he said as he took the first sip. "If you make me breakfast I will offer you my hand in marriage."

Iveani snorted. "I'll make you breakfast, but I'm afraid, as handsome as you are, I couldn't bear to give you father the satisfaction. Now tell me about Bull before I hit you over the head with this frying pan."

"Yes, yes," Dorian said, waving his hand dismissively. "I think it's going well. It's different.. he's different."

"How so?" she asked as she cut an avocado and dumped it into a bowl.

"I suppose I expected it to be like all my other relationships. Even though Tevinter has changed, it's still not seen as normal for men to be together. I can take a male lover, but it's just supposed to be about.. physical satisfaction, I suppose." Dorian, sighed, squinting out the window for a moment. "You would think, looking at Bull, that he would be a rough and crude sort of person."

"He's not?" Iveani said in surprise as she cracked the eggs into the skillet. The Qunari had seemed fairly loud and brash the few times she had encountered him.

"He can be," Dorian admitted with a chuckle. "But in private he is also.. insightful, intelligent, and surprisingly cautious. We haven't.." Her roommate actually blushed, which might have been a first.

"Really? Are you unhappy about that?" She pushed a plate heaping with scrambled eggs and vegetable over to him, sitting down on the other side with her own.

"No. It's a pleasant surprise, actually. It cheers my heart to know that the rumors about healthy, normal, relationships between two men are not completely fictitious," he said, laughing heartily. "I suppose you and Marel are just as insufferably adorable as usual."

Iveani smiled, her cheeks going pink. Dorian had teased her a bit about how quickly she had fallen for the artist, since it was so unusual for her. But she knew he was also thrilled. "Yes, I suppose you'd think so. But you'll approve of this. He tricked me into going out to lunch with Varric Tethras and his editor yesterday."

"Did he?" Dorian's eyes sparkled with delight. "I would give the man a kiss but I suppose you wouldn't like the competition. So, what happened? I see Cassandra didn't eat you for breakfast."

"They're negotiating with my publisher to buy the series," she said, her stomach turning over just thinking about it.

"You're kidding!"

"No," she replied, in truth a bit disbelieving herself. "Cassandra wants to reprint the entire series and then publish the final book. Varric said my publisher has been marketing it all wrong. He's supposed to be having an agent call me, because apparently I'm going to need one."

"By Andraste... Ivy, that is amazing. I lied, I am going to kiss Marel. With tongue. He is officially my favorite of all your boyfriends."

"You'd better not," she said, laughing and brandishing her fork in admonishment. "I think he's my favorite too."

"After that, my news seems a bit less thrilling," Dorian said after a moment as he put his plate in the sink, making an exaggerated pouting face.

"Why? Did something happen? Let me guess. Your father finally managed to pull his head out of his own ass."

He laughed loudly in response. "Not that I'm aware of. But I have had some success on the research front. Oddly, both of the things you asked me to look into appear to be somewhat related."

Iveani frowned. "How so? I mean, besides the obvious fact that they both involve my bizarre dreams."

"Well, you remember my friend Maevaris? She sweet talked her way into the family library and found a gold mine of information. Turns out there was an entire secret room in the library. She swears it just opened up for her, like it was waiting." He rolled his eyes. "Mystical interference or not, the whole room seemed to be dedicated to Inquisitor Lavellan and Fen'harel. All their personal journals, message crystals, drawings, poetry, even some of their clothes. She thinks it was some sort of secret safe house or something. Anyway, she took pictures and managed to convince the servants to pack up the whole lot, claiming it was on my orders."

"Fenedhis. So I guess that means that it's true. They were lovers. But you said it was related to the Dreamer thing?"

"Maevaris didn't look at very much of it. There's a lot to go through, and she admitted that some of it was so private, it felt invasive. But she said that some of the information seems to indicate that both the Inquisitor and her possibly deific lover were also powerful Dreamers. It was even more rare then than it is now, but they left detailed notes. You couldn't possibly find a better source of information."

"Wow." Iveani could hardly believe her ears. "I can't even... when can I see it?"

"Right now," Dorian said, grinning. "Maevaris sent it overnight. She wanted it far away before my father got wind of it. It's all in your bedroom."

She didn't realize that she was holding her breath until she pushed open her door and felt the air rush out of her mouth. Six cardboard crates, sealed shut with both tape and magic, sat on her bed. Dorian helped her carry them into the living room. 

None of the boxes were labelled, so she picked one at random, slicing through the tape. The magic seal opened at a touch from Dorian, and removing the lid, they revealed stacks of leather bound journals. Iveani picked up the one on top and flipped open the front cover. The handwriting inside was neat, elegant and flowing. _9.40- Wintermarch_ was written on the first page.

She started to read the first page aloud. "It seems I arrived in the area just in time. The day before I planned to enter the village, an explosion at the Temple proved that the reports of my agents were accurate. The monster Corypheus has breached the Fade. He is much more powerful than I ever could have believed. My foci is gone. The least I can do is provide aid to the mortals that survive. There is a Seeker here who seems to have taken charge of things. I will offer her my services tomorrow. If she consents not to kill an apostate on sight, perhaps I can ameliorate the damage caused by my miscalculation."

Iveani put the journal down and Dorian shook his head with raised eyebrows. "Imagine what we could learn from this, Iveani. First hand information of all those events."

"The Chantry would probably kill for this kind of stuff," she said with a laugh.

"Maybe that's why it was hidden," Dorian said thoughtfully. "The Chantry was much more powerful then. If this narrative doesn't fit with the one they wanted to tell, perhaps the companions of the Inquisitor hid the information before it could be destroyed."

"You could be right," Iveani agreed before grinning. "Let's open up the next box."


	8. Gaining Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue-heavy chatper. Iveani reads more journals and meets Marel and Wisdom in the Fade.

It had taken nearly all day just to sort through the crates. There were two sets of personal journals, one written by the Inquisitor and one by her mysterious lover. There were also packs of bound letters, several sketchbooks, and two special journals that Dorian had told her were magically linked so that they would always be identical. 

One box had contained several personal items, including a rolled wolf pelt and a pendant made from the jawbone of some ancient carnivore. Iveani found it especially fascinating, partly because she remembered seeing it in her dreams around the neck of the man called Solas. The one who wore Marel's face and was possibly an ancient elven deity. It was a hard thing to imagine.

The message crystals she left for last, partly because she didn't want to damage them by looking. The magic was ancient and unfamiliar, and even Dorian said he would have to research before he could be sure how to activate them.

So, after she had caught up on her freelancing work, she went back to the journals. She liked to alternate between Lavellan and Solas so she could see events from both points of view. Lavellan's entries were not as long or eloquent, but were often more emotional. Though it was clear they spent a lot of time together, at this point they were barely friends, let alone lovers.

 _9.41, the fifteenth of Haring_ she read, Solas's elegant script flowing across the page. _Today we arrived at the first camp in the Storm Coast, a mountainous region of Ferelden bordering the Narrow Sea. The place has a wild beauty to it, despite the fact that it rains constantly. We came to investigate reports of a Gray Warden presence. Understandably, the mortals are somewhat concerned by the disappearance of the entire Order since the Conclave, and I fear I can offer little information. Corypheus is a darkspawn, perhaps one of the first, but I cannot say what his powers truly are. I did not expect him to be able to master the orb as much as he has, and I cannot study the magic of the Void, lest I be corrupted._

Even if Iveani imagined the words in Marel's enchanting voice, all the notes about magic were a bit boring. She yawned and blinked before continuing.

_9.41, the seventeenth of Haring- The Herald was most distressed to discover the fate of the Inquisition scouts. The Blades of Hessarian is not an organization I know much about, but we are now engaged in gathering ingredients for an object known as Mercy's Crest. As usual, Lavellan has surprised me, choosing to challenge the leader of these bandits herself. She is brave, but never reckless, despite her youth. Today we came upon a rare sight, a giant battling a high dragon right on the shore. Lavellan shushed us, and Cassandra and Varric made to flee back to camp. But she and I lay flat behind a piece of driftwood to watch the battle in all its majestic savagery. It was an amazing sight, but what I cannot forget is the warmth of Lavellan lying close to me. It has been ages since I have indulged in physical contact, and the Herald is free with her affections. Just yesterday, I woke her from a nightmare when she cried out. I am not surprised that demons are attracted to her. Her spirit in the Fade is like a bonfire. But she clung to me for several minutes, shaking in fear, and I could not bear to break away. It frightens me, how much I long to be close to her. To see her smile. To hear her voice. I fear she will be my undoing._

Iveani felt herself smiling. The poor man was lost before he even knew it. Much like her with Marel. She missed him more than she wanted to admit. It was ridiculous that it had been less than two days, and she was already longing for him. She checked her phone. They had texted on and off, but he had likely gone to bed ages ago. It was past two in the morning. Ugh.

A few minutes later, Iveani was in her bed asleep, and before she knew it, she was in the Fade. Normally, she simply set wards and let her mind lead where it would, but tonight she had a sudden inspiration. She went looking for Marel.

She hadn't practiced searching the Fade for something specific in a long time, but she focused on thoughts of him, making sure to picture him as he was in the present, and not as Solas from the past. It actually didn't take her so long to find him, but for a moment, she just watched.

Marel was sitting on a bench of carved stone, leaned in a posture of relaxed attention with his chin resting on his clasped hands. A woman was speaking to him in a gentle voice, though her body was misty and unformed.

Iveani realized then that it must be a spirit. Perhaps it was even the Wisdom spirit that was his particular friend. Despite her deep-seated misgivings, her curiosity pulled her forward.

"It seems we have a visitor," the spirit said calmly. There was no facial features to show expression, but Iveani got a sense of warmth, and almost maternal acceptance. 

Marel turned in surprise. "Iveani, I did not expect you to come here of your own accord," he said, clearly pleased. She came to stand beside him and his arm came around her waist, both protecting and possessive.

"I was looking for you, actually. For my own selfish reasons," she said, snaking her hand around the back of his neck. "But I was curious enough to overcome my issues. I suppose this is your friend Wisdom?"

"Indeed. I have known Marel since he was very young. And you are Iveani. He speaks so highly of you. I am glad to finally meet you." 

"I'm sure he's exaggerating my good qualities," Iveani said, grinning fondly at her lover. "Sorry if I interrupted you, Wisdom."

"Marel and I were discussing modern applications of magic. Since the Veil has weakened, more mortals have magical abilities than ever, yet they mostly go unused."

"Do you think they really go unused? I suppose mine do, since I concentrated my gifts into gardening and alchemy." All magically gifted children were required to attend classes in school to learn to control and focus their power. All were encouraged to develop a specialty, and attend a yearly registration and licensing class. "What about you, Marel?"

"Spirit speaking, which I suppose comes as no surprise," he replied with a smile. "Lately I have been wondering what sorts of applications magic might have for art. Wisdom was showing me some memories of the ancient artists of Arlathan to give me ideas."

"Can you really see memories from that far back?" She'd sort of assumed there was a time limit, although she couldn't have said why that would be.

"It is difficult," Wisdom said, her form wavering with some emotion. Iveani thought it might be sadness. "There are few spirits alive now that remember. But I gather what I can, so that it is not forgotten. Do you have any memories that you wish to see?"

She tried her best to school her emotions. There was so much she might learn, but she didn't want Marel to see yet. It was too much, too soon. "Maybe some other time," she replied nervously.

"Yes. Perhaps you are right. It will soon be morning. I think I will leave you both to your dreams for now. Dareth shiral." Wisdom seemed to fade away as they watched. Marel waved, apparently untroubled by the abrupt departure.

He turned and pulled Iveani into his lap, making her giggle. "I am glad you were able to meet Wisdom, even if that was not your intention. Why did you come looking for me?"

Iveani sighed, letting her head rest against Marel's chest. His presence was soothing. "I missed you," she admitted, looking up at him.

He smiled gently down at her before placing a kiss on her forehead. "I have missed you today as well. It is comforting to know that I am not the only one."

"We're hopeless, aren't we?" Iveani replied, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his jaw. He turned his head to meet her lips. It started out tender, but then their tongues brushed, igniting the embers of their passion. Marel's fingers tangled in her hair as the kiss turned hungry. Her teeth scraped over his lower lip, drawing a gasping breath from his mouth.

The sound of bells echoed through the Fade. "My alarm," Marel groaned. Iveani did not have time to ask him why his alarm sounded like a cathedral. "I will see you later, 'ma lath," he said as he faded into the waking world.

Iveani stood, sighing in annoyance. She was not at all ready to wake up, and though seeing Marel had been comforting, now she was agitated and unsatisfied. Maybe she should go back to her old dreams and find a really sexy one. Then there was a wavering in the Fade, a sensation she hadn't felt in a while. Her heart clenched in fear, thinking a demon has come from her.

"Do not fear, lethallan. I do not wish to harm you, only to speak."

"Wisdom?" Iveani felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest, but it was definitely the same spirit from before.

"Yes. I was hoping to talk to you alone. I sensed that you had more to tell me, and I have things to tell you. About Marel, and who he, and you, were before."

"Do you mean the Inquisitor and Solas? I've had dreams about them since I was a child, but it's only recently that I've been able to do any research." Maybe Wisdom had answers. 

"Ah. Then you know at least some of what I came to tell you. Have you told him?" There was no need to ask who 'him' was.

"No. I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to finish my research, and then decide what to tell him. I mean.. the whole Fen'harel thing is fairly..." Iveani shrugged, not really having words for what she wanted to say.

"It is a heavy burden," Wisdom agreed. "It was wise of you to be cautious. I knew him, before. He was a friend, and he gave much to help me and the other spirits." 

"You knew Fen'harel? He and Solas were the same person weren't they?" The more she researched, the more sure Iveani was, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

"Yes. My previous form was killed; he watched for years for me to reappear, and when I finally did, he aided me as a midwife at the birth of a child. He was a mentor as well as a friend. Solas was his true name, or at least it was what he called himself. Fen'harel was a title bestowed upon him by his enemies, but he embraced it. When he helped to found the organization called Inquisition, it was initially to help the mortals to mend his errors. But the people he met there made him care about the world, broken as it was. And so, he and his love gave their lives to save all that could be saved."

"You mean.. they were the Lovers? All that stuff about the Great Sacrifice and the Veil is true?" Even though it was a part of history that most of Thedas accepted, Iveani wasn't sure she had ever really believed it. Like the stuff about the Blight and darkspawn. It was just too strange to be real. Except that it was.

Wisdom bobbed in assent. "Fen'harel created the Veil long ago, trapping the corrupt beings that ruled Elvhenan and stopping them from destroying everything. But the Veil created as many problems as it cured."

Iveani shook her head in stunned disbelief. "I can't believe that all that stuff is true. And Fen'harel created the Veil. It seems too big for one man to have built."

"All myths have a kernel of truth within," Wisdom said, with a trilling noise that might have been laughter. "Fen'harel was clever and powerful, but proud. He intended to bring down the Veil, destroying the world that he had made to restore what had been lost. But his freinds within the Inquisition, and his love for Inquisitor Lavellan, convinced him to find another path. He gave his life for that, and she with him, because they could not bear to be parted. I knew they would be born again, and so I have waited."

A long breath slowly escaped Iveani's mouth. "They were us, in a past life. I was the Inquisitor."

"As you already suspected," Wisdom remarked. "You deserved a chance at happiness. You both did. So I searched the Fade for you, gathering souls who had touched your life in my search. I had quite a collection." There was the trill of laughter of again. "But the time came finally, to release you into the world. My part is now done. However, your part is only beginning. I believe that Solas intended for those things to be discovered, for what purpose I could not say."

"Do you mean... others? Other members of the Inquisition?" Suddenly Iveani remembered Solas's journal. Cassandra and Varric. Could it really be the same? 

"Them, and many others from that time. I may have gone a little overboard," Wisdom admitted, with something like a shrug in her mannerisms. "But occasionally, while looking for a specific soul, I would find others who had suffered. It was a terrible time in the world. In any case, this is another chance for all of them, and for you and Marel most of all, to have peaceful lives. This world is by no means perfect, but you can find your happiness here."

"Do you think I should tell him? Would he even want to know? It's... well...."

"A lot to take in? Yes. I think he will want to know, eventually. But first you need to discover his past. In this body. That is the first step for him," Wisdom said firmly.

"You know, don't you? Why did you tell him that you didn't?" Iveani couldn't believe that the spirit would lie.

"I am not a spirit of Truth," Wisdom said, laughing again. "I did not lie out of malice, however. Marel would have had a hard time believing the truth without proof, which has proved difficult to locate. But more importantly, he needed to find you first. More than that, I will not say, except that you will understand in time. Now it is time to awaken, Iveani. Continue your research. The memories of Solas and Lavellan are part of your story too."

Iveani blinked awake, what seemed like moments later. Her phone said it was after eleven. There was a text from Marel, asking if she wanted to come to dinner that night. She smiled and after texting him back, she went to make herself breakfast, her thoughts turbulent. The Clan Seer had been right after all, but even he couldn't have predicted the strange truth.


	9. Ghosts of Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iveani receives a phone call from her mother. She and Marel discuss their childhoods over dinner, and then she has a nightmare that makes her re-examine her memories of her childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I apologize for the delay. Things are going to be a little slower for the foreseeable future, as I now have a writing job! However, I'm hoping to update at least one fic per week, so none of my stuff is abandoned. Thank you for reading and leaving comments and kudos. It makes my day!
> 
> (side note: However, if you're reading my Arlathan fic, that's on hiatus until I finish something else.)

Dorian was long gone to class by the time Iveani was up, so she poured herself a bowl of cereal and plopped down on the couch with the journal. She was so wrapped up in reading that when her phone rang, she was startled enough that she almost fell.

"Hello?" she said, her voice a bit breathless as she tried to still her hammering heart. 

"Is this Iveani Lavellan?" asked a high female voice whose Dalish accent was heavier than her own.

"Yes," she replied cautiously, "Who is this?" It had been a long time since she'd spoken to another Dalish, and she couldn't imagine why one would be calling her now. Unless someone had died, she supposed.

"Sorry, I should have introduced myself. My name is Merril Sabrae. I'm from Spire Media. Varric Tethras said you were looking for representation?."

"Oh, you're the agent," Iveani said, relieved it wasn't anything to do with her family. "Cassandra told me they've finally finished up negotiations with my old publisher."

"Yes. They're looking for a new cover artist now. Cassandra wants a completely new look for the re-release. We have plenty of time before it will be ready, but they want you to consider doing a book-signing tour. Maybe just a small one through Orlais."

"Do you think anyone actually wants my autograph?" Iveani was skeptical that she had any fans that devoted.

Merril laughed, high and musical. "More than you might think, but that's not even the point. It gets you out there, makes people curious."  
"I'll consider it, I suppose," Iveani replied. "But I've got to finish the series first, right?"

"Actually, I think they want you to do a few signings earlier. I'll check with Cassandra in the next few days. But we should meet for lunch to discuss a few things.." They made plans for lunch a few days later and chatted idly for a few minutes before hanging up. Iveani thought that she and Merril would be great friends eventually.

She checked the time. Still early, so she went back to her journal, but hadn't read more than a few paragraphs before her phone rang again.  
Who could possibly want to talk to her now? She looked at the name flashing on her screen and groaned. "Hi, mom," she said with false cheer as she pressed the phones to her ear. "What's up?"

"Just checking up on you. I haven't heard from you in a while," Nehris said to her daughter, and Iveani didn't believe that for a minute. It wasn't that her mother didn't care about her. But Nehris had four other children now, courtesy of her asshole husband, and she had her hands pretty full. Since Iveani hated the man, she tended to keep away from them as much as possible. Everyone was happier that way.

Consequently, Nehris rarely called her daughter unless she had something important to say, or if her husband had bullied her into it because he had thought up a scathing comment. "I'm fine. Doing freelance work, working on my next book."

"Are you dating anyone? I know you said your roommate is gay but.."

"Dorian is still gay. He has a boyfriend," Iveani replied testily. For some reason, her mother was obsessed with her love life. She would have thought it was a burning desire for grandchildren, but her youngest was only seven. Didn't she have plenty to do already? "But yes, I am seeing someone. For a couple of months. It's going well."

"Oh good," Nehris replied, despite the fact that she sounded disappointed. "Listen, I was thinking of coming to the city for a couple of days next month. Aridhel is looking at colleges. Sileal University has a good reputation, and she's hoping for a scholarship."

Great. An excuse for her family to be up her butt all the time again. Maybe Marel was interested in moving back to Orlais. "Do you want to meet us for dinner?" her mother was asking.

That wasn't as bad as she'd expected. At least they weren't asking to stay here. "Sure, just let me know when you'll be here." Iveani listened to her mother gush about her younger children for a while. They were always so perfect and accomplished and... ugh. Finally the conversation seemed to be winding down. "Listen, I'm going out later, so I'm going to go get ready," she said, keeping her tone light.

"Okay. See you soon, dear." Iveani ended the call with a sigh. One meal. She could handle it, especially if her stepdad wouldn't be there. After wolfing down a quick lunch, she took a shower, looking forward to being with Marel again.

*******************

Tonight they were at a Nevarran restaurant that Cassandra had told Marel about. It was obviously good because the dining room was crowded even on a Tuesday. Iveani sighed over her wine.

Marel's hand found her knee, giving it a squeeze to break her out of her reverie. "Something is troubling you, vhenan. I am here, if you would like to talk about it." 

She laid her hand over his, their fingers entwining. "Sorry. It's nothing terrible," she said with a reassuring smile. "My mother called earlier today. It's always an emotional can of worms."

"You do not get along with your mother?" he asked with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"I... She and I get along all right, I suppose. But her husband is another story." Just the thinking about the man made her scowl.

"I take it he is not your father?" Marel asked sympathetically.

"No. My father died when I was young. A car accident. I don't even remember him," she replied, her tone wistful. "Mom remarried when I was eight. Bernard isn't exactly my favorite person."

"He sounds Ferelden. I didn't know the Dalish ever married humans." His face betrayed his surprise, but he was not as disapproving as she thought he might be.

"It is rare," Iveani admitted. "He's a merchant, and has a pretty good reputation with the clans. The Keeper barely put up a fight. Normally, I'd be all for relaxing those kind of traditions, but in this case, I would have happy if he'd forbidden the match. Bernard might be a good merchant, but he's not a nice man."

An involuntary shudder passed over her, and Marel looked at her sharply. "He abused you?"

She nodded, swallowing. "I don't really want to talk about it. It was years and years ago. The point is, my mom and sister are coming to town next month. Even though he won't be here, it brings up a lot of bad old memories."

The look on Marel's face was fierce, but he nodded in understanding. "If you need me while they are in town, you need only call. Not that it isn't true at any time," he added, his face gradually softening, "But I especially would not want you to have to face such a thing alone."

"Thank you," she said with a sigh, squeezing his hand. His thumb rubbed over her knuckles comfortingly. Iveani was glad for his support and even more glad that he didn't press her. Reliving that time in her life wouldn't benefit anyone.

He smiled. "You always have my support, Iveani. Also, I wanted to thank you, for deciding to meet Wisdom. I know it was hard for you, but I was happy to see the two most important people in my life getting along."

She smiled back, though a part of her was remembering everything that Wisdom had revealed. How was she going to help Marel discover his past, if no one else had been able to? "I didn't mind at all. I'm glad you have people looking out for you. Your childhood probably wasn't any better than mine."

Marel shook his head. "No, but that is definitely not a topic for tonight. You never did tell me why you are so bothered by spirits. Is it too terrible to talk about?"

Iveani made a face, wrinkling her nose. "It's not terrible, but I'm sure you'll think it's silly." He raised his eyebrows, gesturing for her to continue, and she sighed heavily. "When I was little I had an imaginary friend. But I believed he was real. A spirit in the Fade and that he manifested physically just to play with me."

"That is much more creative than most children would be," Marel remarked, seeming impressed.

"Right? Anyway, my mother finally told me he wasn't real. Of course, it was crushing. And I got this idea in my head that if I spent time with spirits I'd make them disappear. I mean, I know in my head it isn't true, but now the idea of meeting spirits usually gives me a panic attack."

"I understand the difficulty with making the heart believe what the mind knows. I have much the same issue with my feelings regarding the Dalish."

Iveani raised her eyebrows, trying not to feel offended. After all, she didn't particularly love the Dalish either, and he had done his best not to let it cloud their relationship. "Why don't you like the Dalish, if you don't mind my asking?"

"You know I grew up in foster care," he began, looking off into the distance. She got the sense that he didn't want to meet her eyes. 

"Yes. Are you an orphan?" Now she felt kind of bad she'd never asked before, but it seemed like a painful subject to bring up.

"That is the problem, you see, I do not know. I entered the system at a young age. My caseworker admitted that she did not truly know how old I really was. I do not even have a birthday. The only thing my file says is that I was voluntarily surrendered to Children's Services by a Dalish Keeper."

Iveani squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry, vhenan. That's extremely strange. The clans cherish children, even now. I can't imagine why any Keeper would have given you up." Not to mention the sad fact that he didn't even have a birthday. There had to be something she could do. Wisdom seemed to believe that she would succeed when everyone else had failed.

Marel sighed and shook his head. "Perhaps it was for the best. Who know what path my life may have taken otherwise? I would like to know where I came from, but on the other hand, perhaps it is foolish to place so much emphasis on the past. It changes nothing to know the circumstances of my birth, and the future looks more interesting than it ever has." 

He smiled at her and she smiled back, but she also felt a pang of guilt. How could she tell him to let go of the past while she submerged herself in it? And still she had told him nothing. Despite Wisdom's reassurances, it made Iveani feel sick to think about it, though she wouldn't have known how to start the conversation. "The future is looking bright, 'ma lath." she agreed.

************

They spent that night in gentle intimacy. Slow, lingering, kisses and tender caresses culminating in sex that was as intense as it was leisurely. They fell asleep in a close embrace. As Iveani drifted off, all she could think about was how difficult it was becoming to want to spend the night alone and wondering what should be done about that.

When she entered the Fade, she set her usual wards, intending, for tonight, to let her dreams lead where they would. But her mind was still preoccupied with the conversation she'd had with Marel over dinner and Iveani found herself in a familiar scene.

Her six year old self was in the backyard picking flowers and singing tunelessly when the air rippled around her. Little Iveani didn't notice at first, but her adult self knew just what was happening. "No. It can't be."

The Veil twisted and shivered and then, there was a little boy, unruly auburn locks covering his face. "Nulam," Iveani whispered, just as her younger self shouted his name with joy, embracing him.

Her mother entered the scene and then the dream changed. It was darker, the sky angry. "He isn't real," he mother said, taking the boy by the arm. "Just your imagination."

"No! He is real! Mama, don't take him away!" the little girl cried. Her stepfather appeared in a clap of thunder.

"I'm tired of your lies, you little brat. I'll beat this demon-loving crap out of you if it's the last thing I do," he said, his belt slapping against his hand as he advanced on the child.

"No! Please! He is real! The Keeper said..." Her younger self was cowering in terror, arms held out in a protective gesture, but there was still a glint of defiance in her eyes.

"I don't care what that damn Keeper said. There will be none of that in my house!" He raised the belt, and now both Iveanis were crying. As the slap of leather against skin rang through the air, adult Iveani fell to her knees, sobbing.

"Begone, spirits! Your presence is unwelcome," shouted a familiar voice, a beloved voice. Marel's arms were around her as the dream faded. She shook, clinging to him like a survivor of a shipwreck might cling to a bit of wood, her breath coming in choking gasps. His slender fingers stroked her hair. "Shhh, shhh, 'ma lath. It was only a dream. Nothing can hurt you while I am here."

Iveani pressed her face to his chest, unable to think or say anything except, "He was real. They lied to me. He was real."


	10. The Truth of Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iveani confronts her mother about Nulam. She and Marel discuss the future, but can what they have survive the revelation about their shared past?

It was several minutes before she could stop shaking enough to speak. Marel held her, stroking her hair and murmuring reassurances. Finally, she sat up, dashing away the tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry… I just.. I can’t believe it.”

“No need to apologize, vhenan,” he said, kissing her temple. “I will always be here when you need me. Perhaps I should make us breakfast, and then you can try to explain your dream. If you want to, that is. I will not force you, if it is too difficult.”

Iveani shook her head, leaning against his chest, letting his familiar scent soothe her. “No, I want to tell you,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you, for being here. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a nightmare like that.”

Marel frowned. “The mere fact that you have had experiences to give you such nightmares gives me a strong urge to strangle something. But never mind that. Come into the kitchen. I was going to surprise you, but I did purchase a coffee maker.”

She smiled up at him weakly. “You always know how to cheer me up, vhenan. Whatever would I do without you?”

Marel scooped her into his arms and carried her into the kitchen. “Let us endeavor never to find out.”

**********

After coffee and scrambled eggs, Iveani did feel a bit more steady, but the feelings of grief and confusion had not totally abated. She stared over the rim of her coffee cup, still not quite able to believe what she now knew to be true. Marel reached over the table, taking one of her hands in his. “I am here, if you want to talk about it.”

“It’s just… I can’t believe they all lied to me. Especially my mother. Why would she do that? I understand later, maybe to please my stepfather. But in the beginning…. And what happened to him? To Nulam. If he’s real, that means… he has to be out there somewhere.” 

Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Marel feel a strange thrill at the name. Both elation and disquiet, but he kept his focus on Iveani. She was understandably upset, and he wanted to hep her. “Perhaps you should call your mother and ask her. I know you do not enjoy speaking with her, but she may be the easiest way to get all the answers you seek.”

She took a deep breath and sighed it out before nodding. “You’re right. She might have even been trying to work her way up to telling me. I thought she was acting strange during some of our recent conversations, but now it makes a certain horrible kind of sense.”

Marel followed her into the bedroom so she could get her phone. She sank down on the bed, staring at the screen with a frown. “Do you want me to be here?” he asked quietly. “I do not wish to intrude on a private conversation, only to give you my support in whatever way I can.”

She looked up at him and held out her hand. “Please, don’t leave. I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you.” He smiled at that, put her outstretched hand to his lips before sitting down beside her. He arranged himself around her so that she could rest her head on his chest, his arms curling around her waist. Taking another deep breath, she dialed the number, not sure if she was pleased or not that her mother picked up the phone right away.

“Iveani? I’m so glad you called. I’ve been meaning to look at the calendar to plan my trip into the city…”

“You lied to me,” Iveani said, her tone flat with impatience. Today was not a day for idle pleasantries. “Nulam was real; you told me I imagined him! How could you do that to me?” Just the thought had her on the verge of tears again, but Marel was there; she could feel his heart beating against her back. His simple presence was enough to steady her.

A part of her had hoped she would deny it, that it wouldn’t be true. But she didn’t. “How did you… Never mind… I was only trying to protect you, Iveani. The Seer said he thought you should be separated, and I didn’t know how else to explain it. I was only trying to do what was best for you,” Nehris Lavellan said desperately.

Fury welled up in her like a geyser, overcoming her caution. “What was best for me?! If you ever cared about what was best for me, you wouldn’t have married that asshole. He beat me! Made me think I was crazy and evil, and you let him!” Hot, angry tears were dripping down her cheeks, but Marel’s tightened his arms around her, and she managed to calm down enough to let her mother speak.

“He wasn’t always like that,” she replied in a tone of defeat. “I don’t know what happened. And then I had the twins… I couldn’t support you all on my own. I thought you would understand.”

“Just tell me what happened to Nulam,” Iveani said through clenched teeth.

“I don’t know…”

“Nughshit,” Iveani interjected. “You sent him away, how could you not know what happened?”

“I let the Seer arrange the whole thing, Iveani, please believe me. But when he retired, he gave me the file. We always intended to reunite you. I can bring you the file. Tomorrow, if you want.”

“Fine. Meet me at Riversedge Park at noon,” she said, still furious, but also suddenly exhausted. Her mind was full of so many different emotions she could hardly think.

“All right. I know you’re angry, Iveani, but I hope… Please try to understand, I only did what I thought was best.”

Iveani bit back an angry reply. “We can talk about it later. I need some time to think about things. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up before she had to hear another excuse. Maybe later she would be ready to see her mother’s point of view, but right now she just wanted to be done with the conversation. She tossed her phone on the bed with an explosive sigh.

Marel kissed the back of her neck. “I know that was difficult, vhenan. But with any luck, you will have some of your answers tomorrow.”

“You don’t think I was too hard on her?” she asked, hugging her own knees and leaning back into his chest. It had felt good, just this once, to give voice to her anger, but now she felt the guilt setting in. 

“Obviously, I do not know everything about your relationship with your mother,” he replied in a thoughtful tone, “But to me, your anger seems justified. Causing you to doubt your own sanity, allowing you to be abused and doing nothing, those are not trivial matters, love. If it were me, I would likely have said worse. In a more polite tone of voice, maybe,” he added with a teasing nuzzle to her neck. “Perhaps your mother did have good intentions, but it does not make what happened any less wrong.”

“I suppose… the whole thing just makes me feel ill.” She shuddered, hugging herself tighter. Her whole life, she had blamed her suffering on her stepfather, and her mother had been her protector, a victim just as much as she. The growing wisdom of adulthood had started to erode this image, and now, it had been shattered. Iveani felt unbalanced and adrift, though Marel’s presence was giving her something to hold on to. 

“I know it is difficult, vhenan,” he said gently. “For now, perhaps it would be better not to think of it. We could have a bath?”

She looked up at him and smiled. “That does sound nice.”

************

The bathtub in his apartment was bigger than she had anticipated, and soon enough, she was submerged up to her neck in the hot water, her head resting comfortably against his chest. The only light was a flickering candle on the countertop. It was very soothing. “Shall I was your hair?” he said quietly in her ear, and she nodded, unwilling to disturb the peace of the moment with her voice. 

He filled a small jug with water and poured it slowly over her head. With closed eyes, the warm water flowing over her scalp and face was both amazingly relaxing and surprisingly sensual. His clever fingers worked the shampoo into her hair, a sensation so pleasurable that she heard herself moaning a manner that was nearly obscene. Marel chuckled. “If you enjoy it this much, I will have to do this more often.”

“Please do,” she murmured. “I could definitely get used to this being a regular part of my life.” He carefully rinsed the soap out, and laid the thick, wet mass of her hair on her shoulder so he could kiss the back of her neck.

“Would you, Iveani? I have been thinking, and perhaps it is too soon, but I… I would like to be a regular part of your life. I find myself longing to spend even more of my time with you, and regretting the moments we are apart.”

“Me too,” she said, turning a bit in his arms so she could look at him. “I feel silly, for missing you after just a few days, but at least I’m not alone.”

“No. It has been wonderful, these past few months together. I was hoping we might think about a more permanent arrangement.” He realized belatedly that this was beginning to sound like a marriage proposal. Though the thought had crossed his mind, even as romantic as he was, he knew it was much too early for that. “I thought we could move in together,” he added quickly. “You could move in here, or we could look for someplace different. I do not know what your plans are, for the future, I mean. Do you want to stay in Tuasal’vhenas?”

Ivan turned to face him fully now, scanning his features, perhaps to see if he was joking. The careful smile that bloomed across her face was answer enough, but he waited for her to speak. “I don’t really know for sure, about the long-term. I mean, all my friends are here, and it is a nice city. It’s safe, a good place to raise children,” she added, her cheeks pinking slightly. “But I can do my job from anywhere. I’ve always wanted to live out in the country.” She swallowed before continuing. “Do you want to stay here, Marel? Because I do want to be with you, no matter what happens. I don’t want to wake up alone every morning, if I can wake up next to you instead.”

He was a bit stunned by her answer; a part of him had expected her to refuse. Iveani had always been so independent, a trait which he loved in her, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she continued to want her own space. He couldn’t answer at first, simply taking her face in his hands and gazing at her wonderingly, his thumbs rubbing the curves of her cheekbones. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he finally whispered, before kissing her with fervent ardor, pouring himself into her.

Iveani melted into his arms, giving to the kiss as much as she received, drinking deeply of his mouth. They broke apart, both gasping for breath, the hardening warmth against her hip telling her that the conversation had suddenly taken a very different turn. “Emma lath,” she said softly, caressing his cheek. “That wasn’t really an answer to my question, but maybe we should put this conversation on hold.” Her other hand slipped under the water, fingers trailing teasingly down his abdomen before they caressed the sensitive head of his manhood.

He gasped, swallowing thickly before replying, his voice low and rough. “I believe I can agree to that,” he said, his hands sliding over her hips and up to cradle her breasts, massaging in slow circles, while his hips began to rock subtly in time with her strokes. Iveani smiled, raising her hips and guiding him inside her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

She rolled her hips against him, feeling him tremble around and within her, his fingers flexing against her skin as his hands went to grasp her hips. Iveani trailed her fingers sensuously over his chest and up the back of his neck, and he leaned down to capture her mouth in another kiss, catching her lower lip between his teeth. She gasped, arching her back, and he chuckled against her mouth as he thrusted back into her, slow and deep. They found an easy rhythm, a rolling motion as steady as the ocean, and lost themselves within it, pleasure building each time they came together. It was a song that hummed in their blood, building in strength and complexity until there was room for nothing else, and then soaring to a crescendo of bliss. They clung together as the ecstasy claimed them, wave after wave shuddering through their bodies, finally subsiding to shivering aftershocks. 

The water had gotten a bit cold by the time Iveani was recovered enough to press her forehead to Marel’s, his panting breath spilling against her face. He kissed her forehead, brushing the damp strands of hair from her face. “I suppose we should get out of the bath now,” he said with a smile. “Though there was little in the way of cleaning.”

She laughed. “We can rinse off in the shower. For you, I can endure a little cold water.”

After they showered, Marel ordered lunch, and they ate it in bed, cuddled together in the blankets. “I really should be working,” Iveani said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “But I’m really not feeling it.”

“How much harm will it do to take one day for yourself?” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “Besides, we never finished our earlier conversation.” Iveani looked up at him, laying her head in his lap, and he trailed his fingers idly through her hair. “Like you, I can make art wherever I am. I have no particular attachment to this city, except that I too have friends here. Let me ask you this. If you could live anywhere, where would it be?”

They talked about their plans for the rest of they day. By the time Iveani had fallen asleep in Marel’s arms, she had nearly forgotten about meeting her mother the next day.

*************

As she and Marel walked into the park, Iveani was nervous and agitated that she thought she might vomit. “Breathe, vhenan. You don’t even have to speak to her. We can just take the file and go.”

She swallowed and nodded. “Thank you, for being here with me.”

“For this, no thanks is required. I would not want you to face this alone.” She squeezed his hand, unable to get any words out past the lump in her throat. Hopefully, her mother would be on time. If she had to wait, Iveani thought she might explode from anxiety. 

But there she was, sitting on a bench with her hands folded in her lap, and she looked up as they approached. “Iveani? I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Iveani asked with a confused frown. “I may me furious at you for lying to me, but there’s no way I would give up the chance to know the truth. Just give me the file.”

Nehris opened her mouth to argue, but the fierce look on her daughter’s face appeared to change her mind. “I hope it turns out the way you hope,” she said, handing her daughter a thick manila folder. As Iveani took the file, hardly believing what she was holding, her mother looked up and seemed to see Marel for the first time. 

“You’re Iveani’s boyfriend?” she asked, a strange look on her face. 

“Yes,” he replied, frowning. “Is that a problem?”

“You look very familiar. Have we met before?” she asked, squinting up at him.

“I sincerely doubt it,” he replied in a wry tone, before placing a hand on Iveani’s shoulder. “Is there anything else you need?”

She blinked as if he’d broken her from a deep concentration. “No. Let’s just go,” she said, turning without another word, the folder clutched to her chest. Iveani did not look back as they left the park but Marel did, glancing at the bench from the corner of his eye. Iveani’s mother was looking so lost and regretful that he felt a deep pang of sympathy. He would support his love in whatever she wanted, but part of him hoped that someday the two would be reconciled.

*************

Finally, they were back at her apartment, sitting next to each other at the breakfast table with the folder still unopened before them. Iveani took a deep breath and Marel squeezed her hand. With her heart thudding painfully in her chest, she flipped open the cover and picked up the first paper, her eyes scanning it.

“These are the Seer’s notes. I guess mom took Nulam to him after he manifested,” she said, frowning.

“Even in these days, the manifestation of a spirit is rare. And I believe a spirit of Regret choosing to take a body is extremely unusual. I suppose she was concerned for you.”

“Maybe,” Iveani replied distractedly. “The Seer says here that Nulam was also twice born. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Spirits can be reborn after they die,” Marel said, “Although I do not believe it is the same as with mortals. The Avar tribes of the Frostbacks believe that an occasional rebirthing is important for spirits, to keep them from being corrupted. Do you think that is what the Seer meant?”

“I don’t know,” she said thickly, swallowing back a knot of complicated emotion. She didn’t want to tell Marel what else the Seer’s notes had said. A soul bond between her and Nulam. That was why he had recommended they be separated, soulmates shouldn’t find each other so young. It made her heart clench painfully. What would that mean for her and Marel?

She flipped the paper over and smiled suddenly. “Look at this. It’s a picture of Nulam and I. I don’t even remember this being taken.” Six year old Iveani was all smiles, hugging the pale boy, his auburn curls falling into his eyes. He looked confused, but also happy. She handed the photograph to Marel and looked at the next paper in the file, too preoccupied to notice how still he had gone.

He reached out a long finger to touch the picture. How could he have forgotten? The boy in the picture was him, as a child. But how could it be? Surely it was impossible.

“Here it says the Keeper took him to Children’s Services in Wycombe,” Iveani said, and he could hear the frown in her voice. 

“And then?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and neutral. He listened to her flipping through the papers for what felt like an interminable moment.

“Here we go. They placed him with foster parents in Kirkwall. And…” She gasped, and he knew she had found what he had both hoped and feared. He took the chance to look at her, and saw that her hand was held to her mouth in shock. He pulled the folder closer, and when she made no move to stop him, picked up the page she had been reading. And there it was. The name of his foster parents, his caseworker, and then, what Iveani must have seen, the note where his caseworker had successfully petitioned to have his name changed. She had reasoned that he would have a better chance at adoption if his previous nature as a spirit was concealed. It hadn’t helped, in the end. No one had wanted a young male elf, no matter his name or origin.

All his questions answered in one fell swoop, and suddenly he wished he hadn’t asked. Iveani reached out for him, her fingers brushing his shoulder. “You are real. I can’t believe I didn’t realize….” she said softly.

He jerked away from her touch, feeling confused and raw. “I need a moment to think,” he said, shakily getting to his feet. 

“Marel?” Her voice was plaintive, shaking, and he made the mistake of looking at her, her leaf-green eyes. A memory crashed over him, the same eyes looking at him from a child’s face, and he made a small sound of fear and denial. Almost without thinking he grabbed the file and fled.

He ran, tears streaming down his face, not caring, for the moment, if he was observed. His mind was awash in memories long-buried, the months and years of confusion as he acclimated to physical life. And loneliness, he had not understood why they had taken his friend away. He had been so frightened, and then angry, for many years. Marel thought he had put it behind him, but now everything was coming back in a tide that threatened to overwhelm him.

Somehow, he got back to his apartment and then he did break, collapsing to his knees as the weight of his past came crashing over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has been slow, but I am really am continuing to update my fics. Finding a work/life balance. Plus this was a difficult chapter to write. But I hope you like it and thank you for continuing to read despite my slowness.

**Author's Note:**

> So if you like this check out my Tumblr, dragynfox for more Solavellan hell.
> 
> Also, I use Project Elvhen here on Ao3 for my Elvhen.


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